Somewhere Beyond the Sea
by Error205
Summary: Meetting the Vongolas by chance one night, an innocent quarrel will finally lead in a deeper connection than it should. Forced to grow up as a man, after meeting him, confusing emotions throw Andrea more and more into a self-crisis and against her wishes of the Aflieri familgia. G.xOC
1. In all my dark despair

**Chapter 1**

**"In All My Dark Despair"**

That feeling of sickness again; the bandage around my chest felt tight, unlike the smooth fabric of the tailored suit I was wearing. Brand new, black, classy, I didn't think I looked classy in it though. Maybe slight above average, trying a bit too hard for my own good, but I liked it. Be that as it may, I knew I would receive compliments and I've practiced my charming smile for many years. What a heartthrob; despicable. Booze, cigs and that American music everyone went crazy about; I didn't look forward to it. Old Alberto hated that music with passion and what Alberto hates he'll constantly curse, everywhere and whenever he had the change. But Alberto hated whatever was not Italian in general. Beer was an exception though; he had to give that to the "damn Germans" or so he said, not that the German's would ever care about what Alberto thought.

The tie was suffocating; then again, it was usually hard to breath when I was among them. Their breath, reeking of alcohol, their confident smiles like they owned the world, how they were touching women like animals. There was not nothing more disgusting that men; I hated them and I envied them at the same time. Because no matter how much I pretend, I can never be one and I hated my self for that even more. If I could be one, truly, my life would have definitely been a lot easier. At least he wouldn't hate me, not as much as he hated me now. Maybe I could feel a little better for myself too, because my reflection was so vexing, I could not stand it. Nor my middle length black hair, or the hazel eyes, or my pale skin; how much I looked like him in general. Everyone praised me saying that I was like a clone of my father in his youth; a compliment I never liked, no I didn't even considered it a compliment. I think he shared the sentiment. A failure on an offspring; the only heir, it should have been a boy so that's what it will become. Was I supposed to die taking the secret with me? I never understood, so I concluded that it must have been my punishment for what had happened, for taking away his chance to have another one with her.

"Andrea, sir..."

I believe that being sentenced into a life of solitude was not that bad in reality; after all, people were cruel, scary, blinded by desire. Money and ambition were what ruled the world, cheap sentiments were what offered a stable step for those who had no reservations to chase their pretensions. I've seen it countless time, when all is said and done, it was what my family was built upon. The expensive clock I wore, the servants who were tenting the house, my comfortable bed. Weak people did not deserve mercy was what I was taught, but I was not considered powerful either. I had not inherited his flame, I brought demise to his loved one, I was a slow learner. Beaten up and again and again, I learned first hand that if you stay on the ground, they'll beat you one more while your wounds are still open.

But I had my looks and my silk tongue. People loved words, maybe it was the second thing they loved best after money. Or did they love money because they were able to buy words with them? It was not relevant. What mattered was that the more connections you had, they more you could stay on the surface of the muddy sea we call society. I was good with words, I learned to hold my tongue when it was proper, adjust to what the person in front of me wanted to hear when I had to, how to pay compliments and of course how to sell them. Information. To the wealthy and the powerful, information was everything, they'd pay for it, because it gave them a better sense of control.

"Sir..."  
"Do you even have to use this word when we are alone?"

I did not mean to sound bitter, my voice was completely calm as I turned to her. But she would well up almost every time as she was getting older. My nanny was a good nanny, a tight-liped professional, she'd hold the secrets of this family to the grave while she could make a good sum of money if someone were to elude information from her. I did not completely hate her, but I was not fond of her either. Because she would not talk about it, no matter what she saw or how much sympathy she showed afterwords. Well, she would not be alive for long if she were to speak about what she had seen or what I was anyway. What happens in Rome, stays in Rome.

"No, but… Well, don't mind me…" she lowered her head.  
"No need to fret… Since aunt Lorena is always my strength, I hope you can smile when you are with me."

Old people were the easiest. A kind smile and a simple touch on her shoulders were enough. My guess is that as people approach the end of their lives, they always seek forgiveness or any assurance that their lives had meaning. I wished I'd never grew old and senile. Life was boring as it was. Already disgusted by it, I felt like it'd be humiliating.

"Yes, yes of course..."  
"I only meant that you should simply call me Andrea."  
"Yes, forgive me… You really look like the old master, so..."  
"I know."

A sly smirk to hide everything. I wanted to escape that room as soon as possible. That atmosphere in that house was always uncomfortable, but that night was smoldering me. The young man waiting outside was tapping his fingers on his elbow impatiently. Lucio was really tall, taller than me, with messy brown her and thick eyebrows. Always a bit untidy, he claimed it was part of his charm, I said it was part of his laziness. But he did had his way with women, he was always welcoming the ones I was rejecting too. Concering that matter, he was helpful in his own strange way, not that he was aware of it. A frequent patron of expensive restaurants and wineries, he was also serving as my driver and as an informant for the family since he was still a child. His red Alfa Romeo was his pride and a chick magnet for what it was worth.

Cars had to be the greatest invention in history, for I felt relaxed every time I was riding one. The leather seat and the smell of the gasoline; I could stay there all day, maybe buying one and disappearing with it would not be a bad idea, I had thought of it many times, but I knew I'd never dare to do so. Feeling the night breeze as we were riding downtown made me forget all my thoughts and worries, even for a moment. I could ignore Lucio's chatter and empty my mind; it was my way to recharge my energy.

"So I told her to meet me on Sunday morning..."  
"You have to bring the kids to the Church on Sunday morning."  
"Wait? What? Just make Alberto take them there, he is pretty much useless at his age anyway. He only whines and spits everywhere."  
"No."  
"Why?"  
"Because they don't like him… And because I told so."

He was about to object again but shallowed his words and reclined to his seat. Letting a big sigh, his green eyes stared at me and he smirked playfully. He was not one to put himself into trouble by displeasing his employer, that I knew, but his attitude was unbearable sometimes. I've already left the car when he leaned on his wheel, tipping his gray fedora. I never liked his taste in clothes, though his company was not that bad. A lousy friend, but still a good friend and the closest one I had. Not that I had many friends, not in that line of work.

"Bad mood today? Not normal for someone who celebrates his birthday. Should I find you one or two good women tonight as a present?"  
"Sounds bothersome. Only you'd like that."  
"Oh, come one, man! Let loose for once, find love!"  
"A pretty word, but kind of worthless."  
"Oh, no," he covered his ears. "Don't start about humans and sexual desires again, have mercy on me."  
"I didn't plan too."

It was irritating, having to deal with him and everyone in that bar. It was not a joyful occasion. I had to fake a smile and treat useless bums, a complete waste of time. No one worthy, mostly old men, showing off their wealth or sucking up to the families controlling the area, but it did bring money and it was a useful place to exchange information. Mafia they'd call us and then they'd still ask for protection. Clicking my tongue was not enough to show my frustration for having to endure a night there again, but soon I was dragged by Lucio who was more than excited to enter the place.

Lights, chattering, women giggling, alcohol. Same old, same old things. But my smile was perfect, my expression completely rehearsed. The men accepted my company enthusiastically, it was a great opportunity to talk about business after all. The women on the other hand welcomed me more warmly, their affectations could not be duller but I'd open a bottle of wine for them, I'd give them presents from time to time and they'd be happy and pleased, they were also a good source of information, the old perverts let their tongues loose when drunk. I've even kissed them when I had too, I've picked up Lucio's moves with flair, but I felt nothing. I did not desired them and even if I did I could not have them, but it was a good front, so I learned to live with it; it was a good skill to have and I believe I was considered passable.

"Oh, the young Alfieri is here!" a man in his forties greeted coming our way. "It's been a while."

"Uncle Contini, it's been a while!"

Hugging and patting my back; a close friend of my father, he had extending his influence lately and was basking in his own ego. With a click of his fingers, he gestured the barman to bring me the same drink he had like he owned the place. Bourbon as always. I had to get used to its taste and no matter the pressure I drunk sparingly. To my books, a drunk informer was just as good as a dead informer. Lucio, for his own good, could hold his liqueur.

"Let your old man treat you one for you birthday!"  
"Shouldn't I be the one treating you, though?"

Keeping up an image was everything. My reputation as the cool, self-important and calculative heir of the Alfieri family was something to preserve. I've painstakingly earned this character. It helped me gain respect withing my circle, spread fear whenever was needed to my enemies. I had to make me look like an outstanding son; I had to, especially for my shake. Showing no weakness was the first rule.

"I see you are quite the lady killer, just like your father..." he patted my back cheerfully. "I always envied him when we were young, but no matter how many women flocked to him, he had eyes only for Livia."

The old man was in the mood for old stories, but he chose the one I hated the most. People live in hurry to grow up, only to live through the stories of their prime when the grow older. It was pitiful. And I had to avoid the subject. I raised my glass, the ice cubes inside clinked and drew his attention, he raised his happily in response and laughed loudly.

"To the new generation," he said, how pretentious.  
"Well, for an old man, you sure have a lot of admirers, uncle. I bet you won't leave the place alone tonight."  
"You call me and old man and then say this, how is that a compliment?"

"You say that, but you look completely flattered."

How boring, why did I even have to entertain him? I let my glass on the counter and scanned the room. Most of them were familiar faces, mostly sitting in groups, a few of them here and there seeking female companionship. I expected that it'd be a long, boring, listless night. I was mistaken. It was the night I first met them, how could I ever call it boring? A group of young people, about my age, sitting at the back, looking out of place. An interesting bunch with mismatched personas and in the center of it a young brunette with wild brown hair and kind eyes; he did not fit in that place but he was observing curiously. I didn't know that man and whatever I didn't know I had to find out.

"Oh, interested in the young Vongola? Shouldn't you look at women instead?"  
_"Well, shouldn't you shut your mouth?"_

But keeping my thoughts to my self, I smiled at him. It was my mistake, I stared too much and let it show, giving the man a chance to pry. It didn't matter, since I could use him to create a chance. I've heard the name, but hadn't seen the said Vongola in person before. The conversation gained Lucio's attention, who approached us, putting an arm on my shoulder getting chummy and held up his hands apologetically when I shrugged his arm off.

"So, that's the young boss everyone is talking about?" he asked. "Looks plain."  
"He has built up quite the reputation though," the old Contini said. "Come, I will introduce you. Young men should built new partnerships; partnerships bring good deals."

Good. Being introduced by a second-party was always more natural. It could conceal any hidden intentions it'd be suspicious if I had approached them by myself. For playing the wise mentor; Contini didn't seem to know much about Vongola . He had probably introduced himself when he first spotted them, assuming that the young family who had recently risen to power already knew who he was and respected him, he was that kind of man. Their boss accepted his interruption politely as he greeted them, talking about the ignorance of youth.

"This one is Andrea. Andrea Alfieri, the son of a dear friend," his hands on my shoulders felt uncomfortable, but I could not slap them away. "You are about the same age, so try to get along together. Well, you might end up as rivals in the future though, who knows. But you know what they say, know thy enemy."  
"Andrea, nice to meet you," I reached out my hand, what was this stupid old man even saying. "Uncle might sound a big provocative, but I'm glad for the opportunity to introduce my self."

A blond man with the ice blue eyes swirled his drink. The ice cubes inside it made an unpleasant sound, it almost felt like a warning. He didn't even have to stare, we knew he was watching our every move. Extending an arm on the couche's head he took a sip out of his brandy. Already marking his territory before even checking his enemy, was he too keen for his own good or didn't he even bother about such things, noone could tell. Lucio clicked his tongue at him, guys like him were his natural enemies, he couldn't stand them, they were, as he tended to describe them, the kind of ice a man would never want in his drink. Probably trying to make a comparison to poison, he thought that he sounded deep spouting out cheesy parallels, it was just dump. To my eyes, the man was wolf, not even trying to hide under a sheep's coat, but maybe I was just as dump, drawing to such comparisons myself.

"Nice to meet you too," the man offered his hand with a sincere smile, way too sincere for his own good; as I'd though he didn't fit in.  
"This is Lucio, my subordinate and childhood friend," I pointed at him with my thump and simpered.  
"I'm Giotto," he offered Lucio his hand, Lucio offered his a bit clumsily, passing it over my shoulder.

His intimacy was too much in situations like this one, if it were any other person it could be considered disrespectful. But having a close friend like this was also good for appearances. Though he was more that that, maybe the only person I could really count on. But I had to admit that it was a big embarrassing sometimes, he also made me conscious about my height, the man was just that tall, he could be extremely intimidating if he chose to tower over someone.

"This is Alaude," he gestured at the blond man. "And this one is my friend from a faraway country, Asari."  
"Mr. Alrieri, pleased to meet you," he stood up and bowed but then offered his hand in a rush, his pronunciation was far from perfect, his characteristics were too foreign, an Asian?  
"Asari joined us tonight to celebrate his arrival," Giotto explained smiling. "Though he was against it at first."

"Well, I have yet to get used to western clothing and drinks," he touched his jacket to show the source of his discomfort.  
"Well, you are here for a happy occasion then. Actually I'm also here to celebrate. It's my birthday tonight," I raised my drink. "Care to let me treat you another round?"  
"Your birthday?" Giotto repeated. "Then I see no reason to decline. Would you like to join us though?" he gestured to the seat in opposite of him. "I'd feel bad to accept the offer while we just met and not get to know you a bit better."  
"You youngsters are a bit too soft with your words," Contini helped himself to an empty chair, it'd be nice if he could just piss off, but of course it would not be the case.

Bowing slightly as to excuse his behavior, I drew the chair the young man had pointed. Why did I have to degrade my self for the old man? I was not his caretaker and he was already asking for drinks. I threw Lucio a meaningful glare, now we could not have the old man getting wasted on us; he was one of the talkative types. Lucio nodded and cupped his mouth, his eyes connecting with one of the waiters, he made a slight move with his index finger and then rubbed his chin before seating beside me. We both smiled politely.

Lucio hustled me slightly right after we've started chatting with them and pointed to the direction of the counter with a slight nod. My eyes rolled to a man who was staring at as discreetly over his shoulder, holding a cigarette. His lips parted, letting out a trail of white smoke, his gaze was too intense, like his was asking for trouble. Putting out his cigarette, he pushed the ashtray away and placed cash on the counter before standing up. It was the first time I've ever laid my eyes on him, after that day there were many occasion I wished I've never met him, even though I was not being honest. Alerted by his challenging attitude, I could not help but find his unusual hair color interesting, red long hair reaching his shoulders, he picked up his jacket after putting his cigarettes in his pocket, not even bothering to put it up. His tie was loose, it made you wonder why he even put it on in the first place. The left part of his face was covered by a tattoo resembling flames; a pompous choice.

"Don't worry," Asari had noticed the uneasiness in the air. "He is with us. A bit scary but a nice guy."  
"G may come off as unfriendly at first, but he is a dear friend of mine, I hope you'll get along," Giotto smiled, putting a good word for his subordinate.

_Unfriendly_ was an understatement, we could clearly see his gun shining under his shirt. Everyone in that place was armed, but we had to keep the formalities, showing your gun like that could make you an easy target for misunderstandings and blame you for provocation. It made you wonder if these guys really knew the rules running within the groups. Were they just oblivious or they were doing it on purpose? Displaying such amount of confidence would only cause resentment. But he did not seem to care. He just threw his jacket on the first empty chair he saw by the table and stared down at us.

"Everything alright boss?"

If that was his idea of intimidation he should try a bit more than that; Alaude next to him could probably do a better job. Ruining the mood like that and then sitting down still glaring, even after his boss assured him that everything was fine... I could not blame him for not being trusting, but he should at least keep the pretexts. I smiled slyly and that seemed to trigger him more, he knew he could not prove his point just from that and it worked just fine on him.

"Ah… It's Santina, finally!" Contini cheered breaking off the tension and stood up clapping. "How nice, she came on stage earlier today."  
"Well, I requested her for my birthday."

I smiled a confident smile and he patted my back. Contini loved Santina, she was the singer of the bar. Unlike her name and her angelic voice, she was no saint. Working for us, taking advantage of lusty old geezers, Santina could work around everything for money. And Contini spent a lot of money on her, he was a regular there just for her and he could not hide his excitement once again, taking the bait. He'd usually stop drinking while he was watching her. Luckily Fabio was not with us that time, it was a wonder such a conservative guy had fallen for her, seeing other men lusting over her irritated him. Was it love anyway? From my point of view at that time, Santina could easily wake up sexual desire in men, she was extremely beautiful, her long blond hair made her look like a princess and his cheery lips accompanied by her beautiful voice were surely part of many male fantasies.

"Ridiculous," Alaude commented.

The man who had not even spoken even once until then, had clearly stated his annoyance watching Contini displaying his affection. The other men didn't seem to join his enthusiasm too while the rest of the customers whistled and cheered at her appearance. _Odd._ If not by doing that, then how could you please this company?

"You'll make me loose confidence as a host. Santina is our pride and joy you know," I leaned in, trying to sound jokingly offended.  
"Well, I was not referring to the girl."

An absurd amount of honesty that could lead to an unnecessary quarrel. Maybe Giotto should discipline his subordinates more. While the slow jazz music and Santina's sweet voice filled the room, the nearby tables fell silent and the men were staring at them. Insulting an old member and the head of a family at that in foreign turf was a terrible idea. Lucio's hand was already hovering over his gun. The situation could take a turn for the worse, the last thing I wanted was a gunfire.

"Well, uncle has a thing for beautiful, strong, young women, I can not see a problem with that," I defended the man unwillingly, he was just a pervert.  
"Of course! Youngsters these days don't have a good eye for women, if I was your age, I'd have made Santina mine already instead of just pursuing her," he sat back on his chair. "You young men should live your life to the fullest instead of drinking alone, you don't know how much you'll live. Find a good woman, make love to her every night and enjoy life!"  
"I see," Giotto let a heartfelt laugh. "But there are much more to enjoy at life than that."

"What about you, young Vongola, do you have a woman you love?"  
"I'm afraid I'm too busy right know to make time for love," he replied politely.  
"What about the guy next to you?" he pointed at Asari. "You are a foreigner, right? How do you f*ck your women there? You seem a bit uptight."  
"Uncle, that's a bit..." he was getting out of hand, Lucio noticed the tone in my voice and was ready to stand up while Asari looked at Giotto in confusion.  
"He is asking you if you have a special person in your heart."  
"Oh, yes, I do have a special person back home," Asari smiled sincerely.  
"See? Even he has one, why don't you young lad take his example. Offer your father a dozen of grandkids so he can die happy."

I always disliked people like him who were assuming things despite not knowing the other's circumstances, I didn't like him touching me either; scum.

"He says that, but he doesn't even seem that interested. He just plays around with them. Now I think about it, I've never seen you taking one back home," Lucio teased; not a very good timing.  
"Are you spying on me? Afraid I'd steal your women?" I tried to play along.  
"Well, you could if you tried enough."  
"Not interested. Whoever is into you definitely has low standard."  
"High and mighty, aren't we?" he laughed.  
"Well, love is also important. Maybe he has not found the right one," Asari tried to get involved in the conversation.  
"Maybe he is right?" Giotto nodded.  
"What are you talking about?" I asked coldly, cutting Lucio's laugh. "Love is just a beautiful coat for sexual desire. Getting carried away by unnecessary emotions and ending up hurt by them is a waste of time… Isn't it just an idealized form of possession. In the end, people try to possess things as they try to posses other humans."  
"Here he goes..." Lucio ran his palms on his face.

I hated a lot of things in life; but what I truly detested were glances full of pity towards me. Giotto's gaze at that moment, resembled everyone who had looked at me like that, no matter how kind his eyes were. I instinctively gripped my glass harder to channel my anger while keeping my composure when I felt that man's eyes on me. They had a strange shade or brown, they almost looked redish under the chandelier; it gave him an eerie look. He sighed.

"That's rich coming from someone who has obviously never experienced love," he finally said. "I'd rather get drunk on a sea of emotions than feel so empty inside. Sexual desire can offer momentarily pleasure, but you will never understand what feels like to have someone so special to you, you'll do everything for them. How can you protect anyone if you don't even get that?"  
"Are you implying that purposely hurting yourself over the idea of love is an ideal situation? If everyone was strong enough they'd protect their own selves instead of seeking love for the shake of relying on them."  
"I kind of get that," Alaude cupped his cup thinking deeply.  
"I'm just saying..." the red-head did not conceal his irritation. "That running away from such emotions is cowardly. I strongly believe that you can experience selflessness through love, a person like you thinking only of personal interest is unable to get what that means, thus… I don't believe we should have anything to do with you."  
"Then, are you saying you are a better person than me because you can fall in love?" I was honestly surprised by my own display of interest. "People get hurt, show their ugly side or die over a vague concept. Isn't it much clever to admit your desires and be true to them? Instead of dealing with sugar-coated emotions or shifting the blame saying it was because of love, isn't it better to drop the concept altogether?"  
"I can't speak about others, but since it was my choice to harbor them in the first place..." he stood up, still serious. "I will accept them and with time maybe I'll get over them, but they'll still be part of me. It's how a person is shaped. Denying them is definitely not normal."  
"Ridiculous..."

Which was the most frustrating part? The fact that up until then, almost everyone had agreed with me or because, even those who did not agree, found the topic laughable enough to avoid debating it? I stood up without thinking, glaring at him as he glared back. Having a firm conviction was not wrong, I could not judge him for that, but I could not accept it. What everyone around me has proved, how society was constructed; I had made my case and I believed I was not wrong, I couldn't be. The confusing part was his eyes, it was not pity, it was not hate, not disappointment, just pure confidence that he was the right one.

Confusion was not allowed. I should stay composed, letting my drink roll on the table was a misstep, it revealed my anger. I wanted to scream; _Then prove me wrong, prove that I am wrong if you dare, I bet you can't._ Furrowing my eyebrows, I finally showed my frustration, he was not fazed by that. Santina had stopped singing, everyone was staring at us, Lucio had placed a hand on my shoulder to calm it down, we had drawn attention. It wasn't worth it, getting so worked up over something like this, I was aware of that. Keeping my emotions in check should be the first priority, be responsible, avoid causing a commotion, I knew all that.

"Well, everyone has his own views depending on his circumstances," Giotto broke the silence. "You should respect each other..."  
"He does say that, but women tend to run away from him," Alaude's remark made G's eyes widen.  
"Andrea might sound full of himself, but his sex drive is not exactly high, he keeps everything platonic," Lucio crossed his hands.

Even if he was trying to lighten up the mood, he deserved the kick he received. He coughed, covering his stomach and sat back on the chair forcing a laugh. My bad mood had taken over; I had hardy shown that face in public and when I did it was not over something as trivial as that. Lucio realized that he made the wrong choice right away, it had only stressed me more.

"It doesn't matter if they are good or ugly, emotions define people. Living based on pure desire... Only monsters do that."

"What?"  
"Let's calm down now, G," Giotto finally stood up. "I apologize for-"  
"You shouldn't. Giotto, I still believe that we should not associate yourself with this kind of people."

"G!"

It was the first time I heard him calling his boss by his first name. He rarely did anyway, especially in public. It was more than a friendly advice than the concerns of a subordinate. My nails were deep into my skin as I balled my fists, the humiliation I felt after his last words was indescribable.

"I should wait outside," he said lowering his head.  
"Then prove me wrong..."  
"What?"  
"Prove that I am fucking wrong..."

My words made him stop on his way out, startled at first, he turned to me titled his head to the side as if he was weighting his words.

"I wish I could, but I honestly think it's not up to me..."

Of course... he could not know how wrong we was at that time. But as he sincerely replied to my challenge, what surprised me the most was the tone of his voice, he answered in all seriousness, no hint or rage or sarcasm in his voice. What did he mean when he said he wished he could? My hand gestured the man at the door to let him pass, my heart was racing; I thought it was due to the complete and utter confusion in my head. I could not figure out what he meant. My mind should be my best trait; not being able to process the situation was my defeat.

"I deeply apologize for ruining your mood, especially since today it's your birthday," the Vongola boss tried to smooth over the situation, Asari beside him bowed politely. "I regret that our conversation did not have a pleasant ending. Let me make up to you by inviting you to our home."

At his words Asari opened his jacket and put out an invitation, Alaude turned away his face and stood up saying a cold goodnight and left before he gets a respond. Clearly, he did not approve. Reluctantly, I received their invitation and put it into my own jacket sighing. I had to restore my image, though it was a bit late for that.

"I have to apologize as well, I lost my temper for no reason," I decided not to force a smile, it'd look fake. "Thanks for your invitation."  
"It'll be a small gathering, but we hope that with time we'll find people who will understand and share our views. I'll be happy to see you there, Mr. Alfredi. Sorry for the commotion, we'll excuse ourselves now."

They left leaving behind them a quiet bar; not good for business. The Vongola family sure knew how to make an impact even when they did not intent to. Taking a big breath, I turned to the customers grinning and clapped twice to draw their attention. That matter should not bother me, it should not bother anyone, but still...

"Now then, the Vongolas sure are intense, that was an interesting encounter. We should not let it bother us, let's have fun tonight. Drinks on are on the house."

Being a crowd-pleaser had become my second nature, but these men were easy to please anyway. Just a simple announcement like that and everyone cheered, their chatter filled the room again. A simple gesture and Santina started signing again; so long for the bitter atmosphere they had left behind. I never liked my birthdays, it was just a simple reminder that I was getting older each year, nothing special. It was supposed to be another year like that, but now I think about it, that day I received my best present ever.

My ego would not let me admit that I found that man interesting, after all is said and done I did not think I'd ever accept any man. I envied what they had, but I'd never acknowledge any of them. If I was better than them, why had I not be born one? Thus every inch of me loathed them. I gulped the last of my drink ignoring Lucio's concerned gaze. The old man was drinking his solemnly, quite hypocritical considering his carelessness a few minutes ago, maybe that would teach them to control his mouth.

"Uncle, drinks are on us, so drink your heart out."

Had I looked like a fox to him with that smile, it might had turned more threatening than I had intended because his was clearly nervous. Lucio followed me as I left the bar; it was an awful night, there was nothing left to be done there, it'd soon be filled with drunk people, they never held back when they were offered free alcohol. Pitiful.

"Andrea... Are you really going to accept their invitation?" they asked as we were getting in the car.  
"We can not really upset the young Vongola now, can we?" I said sarcastically but had no intention to accept, it did cut the conversation short as I wanted though.

The ride back home was silent. Honestly I didn't want to go back so soon, maybe renting a room in a nearby hotel would be a better idea, but I was in such a bad mood I hadn't even thought of it before we leave the bar. It was late at night when we returned but a young man was waiting for us by the door with his arms crossed, his dark hair combed back, with his back laid on the wall and his eyes half closed it almost appeared as if he was sleeping.

"Sleeping outside today, Fabio?" I asked as I was approached.

"One can not go to sleep without wishing his boss happy birthday," he said straightening his posture.

"Thanks I guess. Did you finish your work?"  
"I wouldn't be here otherwise," he said handling a bunch of papers.  
"You should be there you know," Lucio hopped over some rocks decorating the garden. "We met the Vongola at the bar."  
"Oh… Those people playing vigilantes?"  
"You know them too?" Lucio asked surprised.  
"Why would you but I wouldn't? People seem to love them, they are really popular around. Not very much liked in our circles, but they do have a fair number of supporters."  
"Say Fabio, are these all you could find?" I asked browsing through the pages.  
"Ungrateful much? I worked hard for this," he shrugged.  
"And I could pay you less for this."  
"Hard to please as always," he released his arms. "Well, it does seem like the Ricci' s beat us to it, controlling the route will be a matter of days, no need to enter into pointless conflict."  
"The Ri… Ah, whatever, nothing we can do about it now..." I was supposed to stay calm in this kind of situations. "Oh, but a matter of days you say... I think Lorenza said one of Ricci's daughters eloped with a young man last month, didn't she?"  
"Oh, now that you mention it… I think she did." Lucio recalled the conversation.  
"Why don't we found where the happy couple lives right now? It could be useful for the negotiations," I gave the papers back to Fabio.  
"Ah, can't Lucio handle this?"  
"Don't push your work on me."

Leaving them behind I walked inside the house and up to my bedroom, feeling the need for a bath, I had to remove that terrible smell from my clothes and my skin, I threw all of them on the floor before getting in. The water was cold, colder than I could really handle, it made my whole body feel numb as I stared to the yellow tiles and I supported my self touching my hands on their wet surface. My breath became more difficult with each passing minute. I turned the water off when the sense of suffocation became unbearable, it took me a few moments to regulate my breathing again; it did make me feel alive for a moment, it was pleasurable. Drenched, I towed a long towel back to my room.

_"Who would ever desire this?"_

I bit my lips realizing I had left my mirror uncovered before leaving; it was nanny's fault. Eyes wide, disgusted by my own reflection… I was not supposed to look at it. That body I didn't like, the small scars here and there covering it, my hair plastered in my face, drops of water sliding down the muscles of my hands. I touched the packs on my stomach. I looked so good in my expensive clothes, it was the image they wanted me to display and the only one I liked. Seeing my body bare made me want to puke, how could anyone find it attractive? Girls wooed over me, no they wooed over Andrea Alfredi, they would not care about the person in the mirror, as for men... They wouldn't even give a second glance… But since when did I cared about men anyway? I covered the mirror with my towel and curled still wet in my sheets. I did not have the energy to put on my pjs. My nanny would yell at me in the morning, I should wake up earlier than her so she could not find me like this….

But waking up in the morning was the hardest part every day, but I had made it through once again, despite how much my body was aching. Regretting my decision to sleep like this would be pointless, I had to shake off the dizziness as I stood up. Slow steps to find my balance again. My clothes were still laying on the floor, I stared at them apathetically thinking if I should just leave them there, but eventually picked them up. Nanny was not there yet, so I could at least avoid her scolding as planned. A piece of paper fell as I picked them up and leaned down again grunting. I had almost forgotten Vongola's invitation for a moment. After staring at it for a few seconds, I left it on the table by the bed.

Wrapping my chest with binding was kind of pointless, my chest was almost non existent, but it was something I had to put through during my childhood and eventually, it became a habit. I felt incomplete without it, like it was part of my skin. When I was younger I used to think of it as a game, I'd play the wounded boss when I was alone, when I was playing the bandages had a clear and more meaningful purpose. Now they were just for hiding the embarrassment. I dressed, I had a great selection of suits, all of them tailored made, nanny was the only one who'd take my measurements though.

"Maybe a blue one today..." I talked to my self.

Waistcoats were also a great solution. The one I picked had a gray back, decorated with red flowers; I had bought it one month ago. Thinking back, I used to spend lots of money on my clothes, there were my battle attire, maybe the only thing I'd ever liked till then was choosing my clothes. Was it because I had full control for this choice? It wouldn't be strange if that was the reason. The tips of my hair were still wet, so I combed them back and finally recovered the towel from my mirror. Perfect. But for how long?

"Andrea," a knock on the door. "Are you up?"  
"Yes, you can come in."  
"Good morning, I brought breakfast," she said leaving the disk on my bed.  
"Thank you."

My plate was full with different things, marmalade, bread, eggs, butter and panettone were often on the menu, Nanny kept preparing a generous breakfast everyday, it was a pity they'd have to go to waste once again. I picked up a loaf of bread and munched a bite unwillingly, sipping the black coffee she had prepared to shallow it. Rushing around she grabbed the clothes I had left on my chair sighing and turned to face me.

"Just coffee and bread again today? How many times I've told you, you have to eat a healthy breakfast."  
"Almost as many as I've told you that you should not waste food. You should feed the kids instead."  
"You know I always take good care of them, but you should spend some time with them too."  
"I'm not a very good company, but they love Lucio, so maybe I could assign him to play with them once a weak or so."  
"You know they love you too. What's the point to go against your father to keep them if you are not going to visit."  
"It was the least we could do for sending that man to his death," I glared at her. "Fighting with my father over them has nothing to do with me visiting them or not."  
"I… " she was about to say something but stopping when she met my eyes. "...I understand."  
"Good then… Luciano was a good man..." I said before leaving the room.

He indeed was a kind and loyal man but also a fool. Leaving four motherless kids behind just to follow my father's orders while he knew his chance to survive was slim was the stupidest decision, or so I thought even though I knew that my father had probably left him no choice. I cursed him for choosing that fate and then I cursed mine for not being able to help. I was cursing my father every day anyway. The only thing I could do for that man was to prevent my father from sending them to the orphanage. _I hope they'll grow up together, even without me._ He didn't even dare to ask me honestly to take care of them.

"Going out I see..."

His two cold eyes were looking at me from downstairs, empty as always. Sometimes it was as if they were looking past me, like I didn't even exist, almost like he was talking to a ghost. Stopping on my spot, I returned the gaze, gripping the banister of the staircase and put the other one in my pocket.

"Goodmorning..."  
"I was informed you met the Vongola yesterday..."

News traveled fast, Contini could not even wait for a day to pass on the news. The problem was they way he had relayed them. He did seem calm, but it was not what I was expecting him to say.

"It was my birthday yesterday."  
"How is the relevant? It was also the anniversary of your mother's death, but you were quelling with another man in front of our customers like a bum. How much worthless can you get?"  
"It's not relevant. I just thought I should mention it..."  
"Keep an eye on the young Vongola, but don't get too close, I don't want more troubles," he squinted his eyes.  
"Yes, I plan to."  
"You are dismissed," he said heading to the living room.

_"What was I expecting anyway… Stopping me just to boss me around again."_

I run up the stairs again, surprising my nanny who was tidying up my bed and grabbed Giotto's invitation. Thinking back, if my father had not ordered me not to get too close to them, maybe none of this would have ever started. Was it for the best? I can't even say that, and I did regret a lot of things I did. Maybe I would have acted differently if I had a second chance. But I know for sure, that no matter what I said, I'd never regret getting to know him.


	2. That's life, that's what people say

**A new chapter powered by FallenAngelItachi's excellent editing skills! Thanks a lot!**

I hope you'll enjoy. No G. in this one because it turned longer than it was expected so I had to cut it in half. The next one is coming up soon!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**"That's Life, that's what people say..."**

My house… no,_ my father's house_, was built on a hill, at the outskirts of our town. It used to belong to an old nouveau rich with questionable taste; you could tell from its eccentric architecture and the peculiar choice of wallpaper. He abandoned the place soon after it was built. They said he ran away with a young woman; his wife died soon after, probably cursing him on her deathbed for betraying her. Many times had I wondered if I just didn't have an eye for art or if it was just plainly ugly.

Well, maybe both.

The view was its only redeeming feature. Surrounded by trees, the smell of wet grass filling the area and all those rooftopes in line, like little soldiers a skeleton of the town sprawling beneath our feet, fitting for a king, albeit a rather poor one. Watching the view while leaning on the fence was a habit of mine. You could feel a light breeze even on hot days. Whoever had chosen the location had an eye for these things at least.

"Uncle Andrea!"

A small hand pulled my shirt. Titling my head nonchalantly to face her I met Emma's mischievous smile, Ι had to steady my self better in order not to lose my balance by her tagging. Her long curly hair were messy from running. She was wearing a long blue dress, her blue eyes shined under the sun, no older than thirteen years old. She looked the most like Luciano, a spitting image of her father. Lucio was following after her, panting, while carrying a blond, short boy on his shoulders. Felice was covered in dirt, and his eyes were puff; he was probably crying again. His older brother - walking a few steps behind them - could not hide his bad mood, with his hands crossed behind his back, he was kicking almost every single rock he found on his way, bashfully glancing at me from time to time. A huge scratch on his face, the hat he was wearing when they left the house gone.

"Hello, Emma."

"We just got back from the church! You did not accompany us again," she pouted.  
"Maybe next time."  
"But you say that every time!" she whined.  
"Lucio was there, so it should be fine."  
"Ah! Did you know?" she asked, her cheeks puffing with anger. "Lucio said he won't marry me when I'm older because he does not like younger girls!"  
"Find someone your own age, Emma," Lucio placed Felice on the ground and rubbed his back letting out a deep sigh, clearly tired from babysitting.  
"Emma will grow up to become so beautiful you will regret not accepting her love," she declared, as she crossed her arms with a determined look on her face.  
"I do hope your taste in men will grow better as you get older, Emma," I sneered.

"Taking about marriage is stupid," Tore scoffed and blew away a strand of brown hair covering his eyes, only to meet his sister's wrath.  
"It's not," she pinched his cheeks. "Picking up fights with other boys is."  
"It's not!" he cried, slapping her hand away.  
"It is!"  
"A fatuous quarrel!"

Tore had become ten years old a couple of months ago and he decided that he somehow had become an adult. With a mix of bad adult figures around him to copy and mimic their behavior, he was easy to get into fights; he was randomly using hard words and phrases he had picked up just to sound more important, too. Usually messing his hair on his own, he thought it made him look tougher. Even though he claimed he disliked Lucio, he was usually trailing after him, even copying his looks. Clever and wild, he was the opposite of his little brother who was the quietest of them. Felice was almost five, cried a lot and was usually running after his two much more energetic older siblings. He didn't talk much and he spent most of his day looking through old picture books or drawing abstract things on paper.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on them..." I stared at Lucio while Felice hid behind my legs, seeing his siblings shouting at each other.  
"I looked away just for one second!" Lucio defended himself.  
"Were you chasing after women again?"  
"I wouldn't do that while in Church."  
"He was after that doctor's daughter," Tore tattled on him.  
"What—we said you wouldn't…!"

"I see..."

It was nothing new; it had happened again in the past and every time Lucio promised he wouldn't do it again, he simply broke his promise a few months later. Probably some other kids picked on them while he was not paying attention and Tore ended up in a fight to defend his brother; he was a prideful kid and quite strong too, he broke another kid's nose once for calling him a filthy orphan. The kid was older and still ran away crying...! The folks who witnessed the scene blamed Tore though, simply because he had ties to a mafia family. It wasn't hard to guess something similar had happened again. It was meaningless to ask the kids to cover for him for failing to stop the situation on time, he probably knew that but tried anyway.

Anticipating a scolding, he cowered away with a nervous smile, only to stop when he noticed a slim man, dressed in all black heading our way. We both cringed. Pale, with his black hair combed back all the time, always shaved, Vito was…a present to me. He was "gifted" to me the day I turned sixteen; he was practically the shadow my father had forced under me to monitor everything, four years older than Lucio and me. An efficient man of few words, Vito had a pragmatic approach to everything. Climbing the ladder from young age, he obtained his position through hard work alone. Every case he took on ended with the minimum loss and a clean scene. His lanky figure and his work ethic earned him the nickname Becchino and oddly it fit him. He didn't seem to mind, actually, he didn't seem to care about anything other than his work. He ignored Lucio whenever he called him Mr. Present and his contact with other members was strictly professional. For someone my father had chosen, I did not really dislike him; on the contrary, his cold and cynical nature was amplifying things during work and his executions were perfect, so he was an oasis among other members, but other than that he was a bit hard to deal with.

"Sir, we'll have to depart soon, the others are waiting," he said, his soulless eyes wandering to the kids.

"I know. I'll come in a minute," I assured, as Felice hid behind my legs, trembling.

"About the other matter… I informed the Vongola that you accepted his invitation..." he paused for a moment. "At any rate, I'd advice against it."

"Strange," I smiled coldly. "I don't remember asking for advice."

"It's unwise to build a relationship with a young family who doesn't have strong foundations and only creates enemies on the way."  
"It's not like we don't have our fair share of enemies too," I shuffled Felice's hair to reassure him. "But there is a lack of any decent entertainment recently. I think young Vongola can provide. Or is the fact my father is not fond of the idea that you, too hesitate? Either way, I don't care."  
"If it's just a way to go against him, then maybe-"

"Maybe it is, but I wouldn't put it into words if I were you," I cut him off and we stared at each other. "After all's said and done, I still think it's worth checking them out. Don't you?"

There was no need for an answer, we both knew we'd never agree on the matter, so I just picked up Felice and placed him on my shoulders, all the way to the entrance. The young boy let out a startled cry but soon made himself comfortable.

I couldn't tell if I really liked children or not.

Maybe I just liked the three of them; maybe I also felt a bit guilty, for taking away the only family they had, offering a pathetic sample of a pretend-family in exchange, though I would never admit that in front of them or in front of anyone else. To them, their father was a hero who offered his life to protect the family. What a whole, hot bunch of bullshit...young people would often sacrifice their lives in the name of the family for nothing; some of them did it out of fear. Denying a mission was not usually an option so they hardly run away, but others did it willingly. Was it out of foolishness, or because they thought it was the only place they belonged to, I wouldn't know, therefore I could not comprehend their decision. If it were me, would I have done the same?

My reflection, clear and unforgiving on the carriage's window, did not seem to have a definitive answer. For the simple act of living seemed foolish...but then again I'd never dare take my own life. Thus I kept surviving, breathing, living like a walking corpse -well, a smiling, walking corpse- full of made-up confidence. After all, a young boss had to be confident and calm in any situation and, most of all, had to instill fear whenever was needed to keep others in check. Of course, while gun fights where not an uncommon happening, you couldn't do business in broad daylight easily, either. Cops were one thing, although bribery did help, but everyone wanted a secure place to have their way or hide cargo. In my family's case, it was an abandoned church in the center of a rundown village, many kilometers out of town, the one we just arrived at. Pulling up, hopping off with grace, all so professional. A holy place for our holy purpose, was it?

Ah, it was one of those days again.

A young couple was dragged in front of my feet. From the bruises on her hands and the swollen, covered-with-blood face, you could tell on sight that they had overdone it. I raised an eyebrow. Now, Ricci's daughter was a beautiful young woman, like one of those you could see drawn in magazine, a true Italian beauty. She was sobbing, her long black hair messily stuck on her face, tears tampering her cheeks. Their clothes were covered with dirt. Fabio had sure handled it sloppily; he used to do that when he thought the job did not worth his time. I clicked my tongue to show my annoyance, he was sitting in the back, with his arms crossed, ready to receive any criticism for the way he had handled things. The truth was he had delivered and he did it on time so he was confident he would not receive a punishment...he was right. He had broken the general rules but the time was pressing so he used any means necessary as he was supposed to and didn't seem to regret it. I leaned over the girl and cupped her chin, slightly pushing it forward.

New tears filled her eyes. It must have been confusing for her, without doubt she was prepared to face her father's men but ended up before a bunch of strangers. The man beside her grunted and tried to stand up, but with such a beaten up face it was impossible to talk, or move; I thought he was pitiful the way he tried again and again until he dissolved into tears. It was clear he could not help her in his state, but he hopelessly tried anyway. Such a noble man, desperately trying to protect his woman even in this kind of situation.

Irritating, I thought, hence I kicked him, coldly, without mercy, like he was a sandbag. He coughed and crouched in pain, saliva mixed with blood flowed out of his open mouth—that was a lung for sure. The girl screamed his name and crawled towards him. Is that what you call true love, I wondered as I pulled his hair and picked his head up, drips of blood dirtying my shoes. After all, that girl had given up everything for him.

My face was inches away from him and I could smell his fear, although he was still making an effort to appear brave, for her sake, and yet it was obvious he knew that he could not make it out alive if we didn't want him to. To be honest, it was a bit refreshing. In similar cases most of them would scream and beg and, eventually, they'd betray their friends, family or lovers.

"Well, I'd like to you ask how it feels to be with a man who can't protect you, but he was probably outnumbered and most of the time we don't play fair, so..." I smiled. "What's the story? Are you childhood friends, was he your bodyguard… or maybe just a servant. You sure are a brave guy, setting your eyes on Ricci's daughter... You father must have been devastated."  
"I don't care," she quivered. "I love him so I don't care."

"Oh..." I turned to him in amazement. "You are a lucky man, aren't you?"

"Put him down. What do you want from us? Money?" she cried.  
"Nothing much, really..." I let go of his hair in response and his face hit the ground. "We were just wondering if your father would give up on the late Calderone's smuggling route in exchange for his beloved daughter."  
"He wouldn't...had he wanted or cared enough, he'd have found us before you; so let us go, it's pointless, we won't be useful," she pleaded.

"Oh, I'm sure he does care. He wouldn't offer a recompense otherwise… And you wouldn't be hiding if you honestly thought he doesn't care. I guess, it's nice to have a back up within your family," I shuffled her hair smirking. She pushed my hand away. "Was it your mother maybe, the one who covered your tracks? Or your little brother, I hear he is a softie…I, mean, do I look like a dolt to you? You honestly thought I would believe what you said?"  
"I don't want to go back."

She bit her lips to hold back the tears. I watched her shrink, still trembling. Such a naive approach, it was evident she had never meddled in her father's affairs before. A pity they had not managed to leave the island before we found them. Not wanting to return to your family's home, at least I could relate to that.

Awash with new despair she crawled next to him and hugged him tenderly. In a sense, it was the bravest thing she could to; giving up. I wouldn't want to go back in her place either, she could not expect a warm welcome, putting her under house arrest was the first thing they'd do and then they'd marry her off to someone her father would choose soon after. She'd have no say in that.

As for him, he was a dead man, Ricci would not let it go.

"I'll cooperate with you, so please save him at least," she begged. "Don't let my father find him."

"Should I feel honored that you think I can do that?"

"You are about to destroy our happiness, so you at least ought to do that..."  
"I ought to?" I raised an eyebrow.  
"You don't even know if you'd be happy with that man..." Vito commented, his hands crossed behind his back, devoid of all emotion.  
"I know we would! Criminals like you would never understand, sacrificing us for your own profit!"  
"Considering your family's background, that's rich coming from you," I laughed.  
"I know but I'm not like my father… It was your choice to be like yours."

Her gaze was fierce. Her fingers tangled between his hair, she clutched her chest with her right hand as if she was gathering her courage. The man touched her hand, breathing heavily, slightly nodding for her to stop with his head. Lucio worriedly approached me, alerted by my faded smile. Fabio stopped a couple of our men from interfering, interpreting my reacting as signal to act. I was not aware of my expression that moment, but it was scary enough to make her back away a bit. She turned her gaze away, probably reflecting on her choice of words, considering her position and looked at the men around her.

"Oh, I see… You know I could kill him right away," I threatened, stooping over her. "And even if I won't, your father will owe me a favor if I hand him over."  
"I… I'll kill myself if you do that," she stuttered.

"Now, we can't have that… You are an honest woman, I like you, it'd be a waste... Vito, what do you think we would do in this kind of situation?" I asked.  
"Handing him over would be the wisest decision."  
"Right. Then the old man would definitely owe me one. But as I said, he is an old man… he won't live for long," I rubbed my chin. "But the young Ricci would probably hate me if I made his sister sad enough to kill herself."  
"The young Ricci won't take over soon enough," Vito noted.  
"He will at some point. So let's show some incompetence and let the man go… Tell her father that he betrayed her and ran away when we found them."

Vito's expression convinced her that it was not my way to jest, no one was laughing after all. Her initial suspicion cleared away and she petted his head smiling, silently celebrating her personal win, like she was tending to a wounded animal. I had to hold back my rage, dismiss her words and finally avoid the most logical and convenient decision, possibly because it'd be the decision my father would make, perhaps because I admired her spine a bit. Also, I was curious; why would she go that far for him? When their passion burnt over, they'd realize that it was an irrational decision to run away together, Ricci would chase them for as long as he lived. Unless someone could arrange a way to shorten his lifespan, there would be no room for happiness since they'd be living in constant fear. So what was driving them? _To experience selflessness through love…_that man's voice echoed into my head.

"I don't approve of this," the dark haired man insisted, pinching the bridge of his long nose to emphasize his disinclination to cooperate with the idea.

"Well, you hardly approve of anything, Vito. Lucio will handle this… Lucio, smuggle him out of the island. How does Milan sound? He'll be far away, I can't guarantee that Ricci's hand will not reach him though."  
"Are you sure about this?" Lucio whispered hesitantly.

"I wasn't going to hand him over on the first place, why would I make things easier for the geezer? He always gets in the way and he won't be happy he'll have to give up his plans."

"That's why handing him could smooth things over," Fabio said displeased with my decision.

"Well, you already gave him a new face despite your orders, it'll be easier to smuggle him now since he is barely recognizable," I eyed him and he clicked his tongue.  
"Blame his stubbornness for that," he said.

"Just so you know, I won't thank you for that!" she pursed her lips. "I'll never, _ever_ thank you for that."

"I know," I smiled. "You only have to thank yourself for that. But you know, your man will get a new life, in a new place and in time he'll probably get a new woman, so why would you care?"

"Isn't it obvious?" her eyes widen. "Because I love him. I love him, so I want him to be happy no matter what."

"Oh..." a lukewarm reaction, her answer didn't satisfy me. "Is that so?"

"Pointless..." the man breathed, my eyes turned to him. "This man… has never loved… anyone… he won't understand."

"Splendid! It seems he is regaining his strength. Fabio, maybe you are getting weaker, he is quite cocky for someone who got beaten so much."

"Shut up," Fabio crossed his arms.

"I think we've wasted enough time," I straightened up my clothes and turned to Vito. "Let Ricci know right away and proceed with the deal. Let's finish this until tomorrow. The cargo will arrive in two days."

"I'll see it done immediately," Vito nodded.

"Lucio, do your thing," I patted his shoulder once and he sighed.

Leaving the man to him, I hopped over some debris and looked at the couple one last time before leaving. Ricci's daughter had turned her attention to her lover, sightly kissing his bruised face while he breathed heavily. It'd take him days to recover. They'd have to say goodbye soon, so I spared myself from the cheesy scene. Lucio had a thing for tear-jerking moments, he'd probably turn a blind eye when I was not around and let them stay together a bit longer, that was the kind of man he was. Vito was the only one who followed me. Our eyes locked for a moment. He didn't have to say anything, I knew he wanted me to go back to work soon. Whether he disagreed with me or not, he'd get his job done just like he was told, not missing a beat, usually without mistakes. Maybe that's why I did not dislike him, despite voicing his concerns and facing me head on: he never disobeyed orders. If he wasn't tightly connected to my dad, I'd trust him more.

"Accepting Vongola's invitation and then not hesitating angering Ricci...do you intend to break old connections and run wild?" he asked calmly.  
"Ricci is already a fossil, I'm not really fond of his ways and he has started disrespecting us lately. It's a pity we have to use his daughter to get want we want, I'd prefer if we had ensured the route beforehand. If we had handled the information properly and approached Calderone the right time we'd have avoided all that. But there are still those who stick to the old ways and father won't listen..."

"I'll make sure to discipline them more."

I skidded to a stop and whirled around to face him; his pupils widen as I approached, my face inches away from his. He was a bit taller than me, so I had to stretch my body a bit to whisper into his ear. The moment my hand touched his shoulder, his body stiffened; I had recently discovered that Vito was not good with psychical contact and a weakness was to be exploited when needed in order to have the upper hand. Though he appeared unfazed, his eyes did not follow my moves like usual.

"You say that, but if you had to choose between me and my father, who would you follow, Vito?"  
"Of course, I'd follow you," he said after a short pause.  
"It'd be more convincing if you hadn't hesitated to answer," I backed away and smirked. "So maybe you should discipline yourself a bit more first, before trying to discipline others."

His thin lips parted for a moment and then pressed against each other again, biting his tongue, looking for the right way to answer. The dark circles beneath his gray eyes darkened with each night he stayed up to finish his job; they contrasted his pale skin and made his elongated face look older. It almost made me feel sorry for teasing him. Crossing his hands behind his back was a constant habit of his; as if he was defending himself from the world, presumably it helped him gain a better sense of self-control when it came to his emotions. For that man, self-restrain was everything he knew.

"If that's an order..."

Slouching, I sighed at his straight-laced answered and combed my hair back with my fingers. That's what made that man hard to deal with.

"Sometimes you make me wonder... are you too smart for your own good, dense or simply a closet masochist? Should I arrange a meeting with Lorenza, I have a hunch you'll probably like it."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Always not one to take a joke." A bit disappointed by the lack of reaction, I turned my back to him. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Since Lucio will probably have his hands full, I want you to accompany me in the meeting with the Vongola. And since you'll be there, you can judge for yourself if it was the right decision or not."  
"I believe Lucio is a better fit for this kind of thing."  
"Well, I'm sure he'll do his best not to miss it, but I think it'd be a good chance for you to evaluate them. But first, let's finish things with Ricci."

After the initial negotiations, a meeting was arranged soon after, in a crowded area; both parties had denied a home-based meeting. As expected, the deal went smoothly. Ricci tried to play it hard at first, even going as far as saying that he didn't care about a disgraced daughter, but eventually gave in when Vito mentioned that he'd marry her off to one of our men if he did not want her back. What would Ricci hate the most would be to have any ties to our family - especially having her married to a low-ranked member - even if she was a disowned, ungrateful daughter according to him. Vito knew that and he played his role as the devilish consultant throughout the negotiations perfectly. His wooden expression made him even more convincing.

Her younger brother served as an intermediary; one could tell the two siblings were close by the way he anxiously opened his arms to welcome her the moment he saw her and checked her condition first. Ricci did not show up, but his men were there, watching our every move. The girl's eyes, disgusted at us, offered us one last glance before she entered her carriage; there was no need to openly curse us, we knew she did inwardly every time a tear escaped her eyes. After making sure his sister was safe, her brother approached us with a swift gait, not even bothering to conceal his anger.

"It's been a while, Pablo," a smile plastered across my face. "Santina sends her regards. It's been a while since you last visited."

"Stop with the friendly act," he hissed. "Do you think I will forgive you after what you did to my sister?"

"Aren't you glad to have her back?" I faked innocence. "And here I though you would appreciate the gesture. Brotherly love is so touching."

"What's to appreciate? You only helped yourself."

"Well, your father isn't exactly playing nice either. Attacking our guys and trying to sell protection in our turf. I didn't really have a reason to hold back. I wonder if things would not have resulted to this if I didn't have to deal directly with him. And he is not even here to greet me, how insulting; maybe he is too senile for all this."

"Watch your mouth."

"Oh, was I too rude just now? My bad. What should I do to make up for that?" I held up a finger. "I know. Since you are playing the lovers' advocate… A tip, maybe?"

I extended my other hand and placed a note in his chest pocket.

"Not that it will be useful as long as your father stands in the way," I sniggered while leaving and waved him goodbye. "Come visit Santina next time, drinks are on me."

"Damn weasel," he balled his fists gritting his teeth.

Exhaustion hit me the moment I sat in the carriage's seat; I was relieved the negotiations had finally ended. You would not call it a win-win situation, it was also preposterous to think that Ricci would quietly watch from the sidelines for long, but at least we've gotten the lead. Father would not complain and profit was guaranteed. Vito, sitting opposite me, looked concerned as I sprawled in and exhaled deeply. Like he was made out of iron, he kept his posture firmly and averted his eyes when I looked back at him vexed; the bags under his eyes was the only evidence of his debility.

"You should rest. Presenting yourself like that in front of the Vongola would be undignified. Maybe you should skip this gathering."

"So, showing fatigue is undignified..." I crossed my legs and rested my chin on my hand, watching the view outside while the carriage bounced due to the rocky road. "Is that how I look to you?"

"It's fine if you are like this in front of me, it's just not proper to appear like that in front of the other families."  
"I know I have an image to uphold, you don't have to remind me constantly."  
"It's my job."  
"Then maybe I should relieve you from this responsibility,"

No reaction; I should have anticipated that. His composure was admirable, intimidation would not work on him easily, especially when he was strongly opposing an idea. Without reservation, he would insist on what he thought was the wisest and most efficient course of action. When did he start to disregard my threats? Maybe he got too used to them over the years. I was also too fed up of his fastidious disposition, he would receive any kind of discipline without protest anyway, so it felt pointless to threaten him, but I did it anyway. Out of habit, perhaps.

The sound of the wheels hitting the road and the galloping of the horses filled the silence between us. If Lucio was there, we'd have taken the car, I would have avoided the suffocating atmosphere, I thought.

My body was screaming for some sleep, I hit the mattress as soon as I entered my room, loosening my tie. The smell of my own sweat grazed my nose. The moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room, I appreciated the silence, it helped me relax; the interactions I had to go through had drained my energy. Skipping the gathering actually was not a bad idea, but if I did, it'd be the same as admitting defeat for me, so it was not an option. The burning sensation in my throat had become unbearable, it felt like I had swallowed spikes. My fingers desperately looked for the pitcher the nanny left on the bedside table every night, and I sat up on my bed as I filled me a glass sloppily, drips of water falling on the carpet. I gulped it down greedily, like I was thirsty for days and refilled it until the pitcher was half-empty.

_"Matteo was right. I don't think you've ever loved someone, young Alfieri. Yet I think the most pitiful part is that probably no one has ever truly loved you either."_

The glass slipped slowly through my fingers on the ground, I barely noticed at first. It rolled until it hit my foot, leaving a trail of water behind it. The thick carpet almost choked the sound. My pupils followed it absently. Her words replayed repeatedly; in my mind's eye, I could still see her lofty expression to that declaration, right before I handed her over to her brother.

A crooked laugh escaped my lips; I could not contain it yet I still covered my mouth with the back of my hand. Where was the lie anyway? Was I supposed to deny it? Should I look sad? She was kind of shocked by the lack or reaction. Everyone was so arrogant about it like they had explored the biggest secret of the universe. I let my back rest on the headboard and looked towards the window.

The moon was pretty, night was my favorite time of the day, but I could barely keep my eyes open. I wanted to watch the Blood Moon just a little bit more, was the last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep in that position and I did not wake up until a hand shook me softly.

It had been a while since I slept so soundly, my eyes shimmered under the sunlight. Facing the still blurry figure standing next to me, my body reacted before my mind; someone had entered the room without me realizing. My hand grabbed the unknown intruder by his arm tightly and didn't let go until I heard my nanny's familiar voice. Usually, even the slightest step would wake me up. I could only apologize to the terrified woman who looked at me with scolding eyes. She placed the empty glass she had picked up firmly on the table and took a deep breath before rubbing her hand over the place I had grabbed her to easy the pain. My eyes avoided hers, I was not in the mood for a lecture. My back hurt, my body had not moved at all all light and I had slept like a damn drunkard in the corner of the road, still in a sitting position.

"Young master, you should take better care of your self," she pulled off my shirt. "You are drenched in sweat. You better take a shower. Look at you, you are such a mess, you can't present yourself to the Vongolas like this. Up… Come on, up now."

Her voice was giving me a headache; I pressed my hands against my face, still in daze, my body sliding off the mattress. The whole process was slower but easier without her, but even if I tried to ignore her presence, she wouldn't let me. Oversleeping on a day like this, I had really messed up. Not that I would be late or anything, we were not supposed to arrive until late in the afternoon, but having to deal with her first thing in the morning was nothing but harassment. It took me a few minutes to stand up, while Lorena was constantly murmuring in the background, taking out a change of clothes. Loosening my belt, I slipped off my pants, dragging my feet to the bathroom.

"Hey! Don't leave your clothes on he floor, child! Not changing before sleeping, you are an adult now... How negligent can you be? You-"

She stopped her words abruptly and I caught her looking with the corner of my eyes and eyed her sleepily. Her energy had suddenly disappeared; she averted her gaze and pretended to be busy tidying up the bed. There was no need to question what had happened, it was because I took off my vest. But why the gloomy face? This was normal. My fingers scratched the bandages, lazily looking for the end as I entered the bathroom. I loosened them up enough to slip down my body, they were drenched with sweat, the smell was repulsive. My temperature was not normal, my limbs were still sluggish, a cold bath could do wonders against drowsiness.

When I returned back to my room, she was placing a disk on my desk; she had worked harder on my breakfast that day. A change of clothes was laid out on my bed, I picked up my clean pair of boxers and put it on, leaving my towel on the bed. I reached for my drawer to get a new bandage reel when a towel covered my head. Lorenza pulled my head down before I could protest and wiped my head roughly. I blew a puff of air out of my mouth as I struggled to get away.

"Come on, it's fine now…"  
"You always let your hair wet, dry them properly," she scolded. "Give me that. I'll do it for you."

Her voice became softer and she sat me down, taking the bandages away from my hand. It had been years since she had last wrapped them for me, I wouldn't let her do it, but she looked like she wouldn't take no for an answer that day. The soft fabric enfolded my chest. I could not avoid my reflection, she had uncovered the mirror once again. With my arms raised in the air, not moving as her hands meticulously wrapped up the bandage, I thought I looked like a creepy doll. The moment she finished, she rubbed my back softy.

"Done."  
"It's looser than usual."  
"It's fine," she picked up my comb and started to work on my hair.  
"I can do it myself."  
"It's ok, let me do it..." her expression was soft. "You know…even I forget about it sometimes. Suits look so good on you... Your face is quite handsome."  
"It's average."  
"I know everyone tells you that you look like your father... I think so too, but you resemble your grandpa even more. You have black hair and a slim body like him, he was quite the charming man even when he got older," she touched her cheek blushing.

Italian suits have a tapered waistline and padded shoulders, they were designed for a dramatic effect and to fit many body types; of course they would suit almost everybody, I couldn't even take her words as a compliment. She urged me to eat between her small talk; grudgingly, I reached the piece of the frittata she had prepared but she slapped my hand away and pointed at the fork beside the plate, silently telling me to mind my manners. What was the point, we were alone in that room, no one was going to see.

"I hear the young Vongola is a good looking man."  
"Is that so? I thought he was kind of plain..." she run her fingers through my hair, their tips were touching my shoulder. "But he seemed kind, maybe the ladies like that."

"I see…well, different people have different tastes. My husband for example was not that handsome but I really liked his wild side, it made my heart race. It's rumored that he is surrounded by young people so I guess many young men of your age will attend the gathering."

Her hands stopped moving for a moment and then she smiled sadly. With smooth moves, she caught the back my hair in a low ponytail and softly combed by bangs. Taking a step back, she observed them for a few seconds and then placed her calloused hands on my shoulders.

"Your grandfather had middle length hair like you, this used to be his favorite hairstyle, it made him quite popular. I think it suits you," she patted my arms proudly. "Get dressed, I'll polish your boots."

It didn't matter anyway; I was not used to this hairstyle but it'd be a bother to change it. Her emotional state seemed a bit unstable that day, beating around the bush and then polishing my shoes with a sorrowful expression... I tucked the white shirt into the black pants she had chosen. My reluctance about the red necktie she had picked must have been evident on my face. Leaving my boots aside she lifted it up, ran it under the semi spread collar and tied it in a full Windsor knot then proceeded to button the cuff-links she had chosen. Had I made the meeting with the Vongola to sound more important than it was? She was taking extra care of me that day.

"And the final touch..."

I had finally put on my trench coat when she hanged a long, silk, red scarf on my neck. Pleased with her choice, she nodded to herself and picked up a bottle of perfume. I had given up at that point and let her do whatever she pleased. She applied it to my lower jaw and neck; the pleasant smell of anise grazed my nose. In awe of her own creation, she clapped her hands and turned me to face the mirror. Not the look I was usually going for but it looked stylish and authoritative at the same moment.

"Is Lucio going to pick you up?" she grinned.  
"I'm not sure if he came back… Vito will accompany me."  
"That grim man?" she could not hide her surprise.  
"Well, I'm not exactly a delightful person myself…" she frowned at my smirk. "Then, time to go, I have to go to work first."  
"Here, your luggage. I put a change of clothes in."  
"I don't think I'll need it," though, she handed it to me anyway.

Vito was hunched at his desk; preoccupied with calculations, his fingers ran over the comptograph smoothly, like one of an experienced pianist. His other hand was shuffling through his documents. The office was located at the bar's attic, you had to climb a narrow stair to reach it; entrance was not allowed to anyone. Knowing that only one person would dare to enter his desk without knocking, he didn't even bother to look up until I slammed my hand on his desk. Bothering him while he was working was one of his few peeves, probably the only thing that could rile up his temper a bit.

"I'm working on-"

He stopped the moment our eyes met. His fingers relaxed, letting the papers he was holding to slide slowly on his desk's surface. He liked to work in the dark, the curtains of the small window were blocking the natural light. I peeked at the first page, his loopy handwriting flowed on the white paper. His reports were always neatly written, marked by precise accordance with detail. Without asking for his permission, I grabbed the page and walked towards the window. The moment the heavy curtains were pulled drawn the room turned brighter right away. My eyes run on the document; the first cargo had already arrived.

"What's the matter?" I looked at him over my shoulder, his jaw was slightly hanged. "Did you realize the you should greet your employer properly when he enters?"  
"I…" he paused. "Welcome, sir."  
"Are you mocking me?"  
"No."  
"I thought I told you to be ready when I arrive, but you are still writing your report," I waved the paper in my hand.  
"I had to run some calculations and… Lucio is already back."  
"So?" I scowled.  
"I thought…"  
"I'll go attend to some matters and greet Lucio. Hurry up and finish this report, I'll read it on our way there."  
"If I could be excused…"  
"No," I threw the paper back on his desk before leaving the room.

Four hours later, Lucio was yawning beside me while I was nonchalantly going through the report Vito had finished; Lucio had insisted his should come despite being tired from his work. He checked the wrinkled invitation the Vongola had given me, straightened it out in his hands and pointed at the middle of it to prove his point. Vito, sitting opposite of him, frowned; as they had argued, just because they did not specify the number of escorts you should take with, it didn't mean that you should take whoever and how many you wanted with you. It'd usually be an escort or your consultant, or your direct family.

"What's the big difference? Vongola seems like a lax guy, I believe he won't mind."  
"Andrea is right, we barely know them so it's just a natural precaution," Lucio defended himself.  
"Even though you are here for the wine and the women?"  
"That's not true!" he didn't sound very convincing.  
"I wouldn't mind going alone with you, but take it as an extra security measure, we don't have prior ties with them."  
"Did you change your look as a precaution too?" he asked, Lucio flinched.  
"My look?" I blinked and looked at him over the documents. "Not really. Do I look that different?"  
"Are you aiming to win the ladies today? I won't lose to you, boss," Lucio teased wrapping a hand around my shoulders.  
"Are you an idiot?" I pressed my hand hard on his face and pushed him away.  
"You better not act that friendly with him in front of the other guests," Vito warned coldly.  
"Come on, I know that," he pulled away.  
"I hope so."


	3. Blue moon you saw me standing alone

**FallenAngelItachi's edits in action again! Thanks a lot! **  
**And so they meet again!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**  
**"Blue moon you saw me standing alone"**

Giotto had invited everyone to a house built on the outskirts of a nearby city where many holiday homes were located. Surrounded by trees, the roof just barely emerged above them when watching it from the distance. The trip took us a few hours. Lucio didn't stop prattling during the whole trip; that man never run out of things to talk about and did not get discouraged even when everyone ignored him. Upon closer inspection, the building was quite imposing, its architecture somewhat old-fashioned, like all the houses where the old aristocracy used to live in. As the sun had started to set, you could already see the lights through its huge windows. Other visitors had already arrived, their means of transport were parked in the backyard, you could hear a cheerful chattering coming from the open balcony doors.

A small pond in the vast garden was complimenting the already elegant image of the place, the leaves of an old willow, waving under the pleasing afternoon breeze, were scrapping its surface. We gave our names at the entrance and a man led us to the lounge of the villa. The place was overwhelming, decorated with expensive works of art and luxurious furniture, a huge chandelier illuminating it brightly, men and women dressed with expensive clothing; it was unlike the places we were used to hang out where the smoke of tobacco was clouding your vision and the dim light was setting the atmosphere.

We were politely told to wait until he'd announce our arrival to the host. Said host was surrounded by multiple men who were trying to get his attention, he was listening to them carefully. When the man announced us, gesturing to our direction, he looked pleasantly surprised. He nodded with a kind smile and slightly raised his glass in welcome. I nodded back, realizing that Lucio had already grabbed a glass of whiskey which was raised in response. My attention was caught by the unusual clothing a man was wearing; he was the foreigner we had met a few days before, looking much more comfortable in this, he was laughing his heart out, his cheeks painted by a light shade of red, probably affected by the wine he was holding in his hands.

The figure of the red-head blocked my field of vision, his appearance was a bit untidy just like the last time, his shirt rumbled, his necktie loosened. He must have caught me staring and glared at our direction; now that was a man who didn't know how to let go of things easily. Glaring right back, I did not realized that Giotto had approached us accompanied by a young man and a young woman. He extended his hand in a warm welcome.

"I'm glad you accepted our invitation," he said.  
"It's an honor to be here," I shook his hand.  
"Let me introduce you to the true host of this event," he gestured to the young woman behind him. "This is our dear friend, Helena."  
"Hello," she smiled. "It's always a pleasure to welcome new people, I hope we'll get to know each other better and find common ground."

She was stunning, her long, blond hair flowing over her shoulders, her big blue eyes full of life. Her voice sweet and clear; you could guess her good upbringing from her delicate moves. Her light, blue dress was the most modest in the room, yet her beauty managed to stand out among others. You could see from her eyes that she was a smart woman, she seemed to share the same intelligence with women like Santina or Lorenza, but while theirs was raging as a firewall between them and their lifestyle, in her case it was like an overflowing glass, full of passion for the life she wanted to live. I wondered if that was the difference between people who had a clear purpose in life and those who just survived through it. Her eyes pierced me as if they were studying me, it made me uncomfortable.

"Since the young Alfieri took this opportunity to meet us, we can assume that he is somewhat interested in our raison d'etre."

The young man spoke for the first time, not waiting for introductions and extended his hand as well, placing the other on Helena's back. My eyes followed his movement as I greeted; he was already marking his territory. His clothes were quite showy and expensive, but what can I say, his hair were much more distracting. I puzzled over the fact that they knew each other, both of them seemed to belong to past nobility, while Giotto was known to have a commoner background. Even the people gathered here seemed to belong in different social classes.

"You didn't meet Spade last time," Giotto finally introduced him.  
"Well, places like this are not my cup of tea," he simpered.  
"What a coincidence, places like this are not my cup of tea either," I smiled.  
"Isn't it because you've never been in one before?"  
"True that, maybe it's because it's not open to us common people, so it's a conclusion I came into just a few seconds ago. But, you can visit ours whenever you want, drinks are on us."  
"How nice of you. And here I heard that your hospitality was not that great last time, since your first meeting was cut short," he glanced at G. with a smug expression.  
"That was an unfortunate event," Giotto interfered. "There was a lot to blame on our part too."  
"We'll make sure to offer our greatest hospitality next time, if that concerns you. I apologize for displeasing a member of your family enough for the matter to be brought up today. It was a mistake on our part too."

Dealing with provocations was something common, that man was definitely testing the waters and was enjoying it. His expression didn't change after hearing my answer, not even after Helena glowered at him. Giotto was not surprised at his behavior, his men acted freely without much consideration of his position; my impression of him had not changed, he did seem like someone who didn't fit the world he had chosen to swim into.

"They are my subordinates, but foremost they are my dear friends," he said as if he had read my thoughts. "Every one of them has his own temperament, but I'm sure you'll like them if you get to know us better."

"In simpler terms, Spade does not have many friends, so please excuse his behavior," Helena chuckled.  
"Ow, Helena, that hurt, I'm quite popular you know," he clenched the shirt over his chest to emphasize his words.  
"Since when?"

Spade shrugged at her comment.

"I've not introduced you yet," I turned to Giotto. "This is my consultant, Vito."

Vito nodded at the mention of his name.

"And you've already met Lucio last time."

Lucio waved at him casually, not reading the mood as usual. That took away some of the tension on Giotto's face. Even though he appeared used to this kind of gatherings, it seemed that dealing with people like Lucio who didn't care much for appearances was more natural for him. Suddenly an ardent smile appeared on his face and he waved at a young man with auburn hair who had just entered, he was politely handing his coat to the man who had welcomed him inside.

"Let me introduce you to another dear friend of mine," he did not hide his excitement as he gestured us to follow him.

"Giotto!" the man opened his arms.  
"Cozzato, it's been a while, I'm so glad you came," they patted each others backs.  
"This Cozzato, Cozzato Simon, an old friend of mine. "

Giotto sure had a lot of friends, I thought, maybe too many for someone who was rumored to have so many enemies. And he was open to anyone, not letting suspicion cloud the opportunities to form new relationships. His peculiar character was sure to create adversaries along the way; unwittingly, maybe he was coming as over-confident to truly conceited people like us, and mafia was full of them; arrogant, egoistic people who could easily envy someone who naturally drew other people to him.

The soft, relaxing music of the live orchestra filled the room. The gentle breeze coming from the veranda door made the thin, long curtains wave; men and women talking happily, the atmosphere inside the mansion was frivolous. The sun had already set and the starlight was now illuminating the night sky. Many visitors had already said goodbye and left; I figured we would leave the gathering sooner but time passed as we sank into deep discussion before we knew it. As he had already mentioned in his invitation, Giotto invited us to spend the night there since we had covered a fair distance to attend and it was not safe to travel during the night. Trying to get a breath, I found my self on the veranda with a glass of wine in my hand, tired of the constant talking and the need to smile even though I didn't feel like it. The wine was sweet and the night cool, like most nights of October that year.

Resting my elbows on the rail, I threw my head back and took a deep breath. Though I could not deem the trip there unworthy of our time, the place was smothering me. Everyone pretended to be proper and nice to each other, even tough they were not in good terms generally. It could be Giotto's influence, but I knew people could not change easily; I was one of them after all. They were talking about a new tomorrow, but most of them were there to observe, learn, see what chances they could take, so seeing them acting like that was nauseating. I didn't like the kind of people I had to deal with at night in our place, except I believed them to be truest to the human nature.

I caught sight of him again, strangely my eyes followed his figure a lot that night. He was standing in a corner brooding, swirling the whiskey inside his glass. He adjusted his sleeve on his right hand and looked into his drink in deep thought while loosening his necktie a bit more. My eyes shifted to his tattoo again, it still amazed me how flashy it was; it ought to gather a lot of strange looks while he was walking around town. My eyes traced it down from his cheek to his collarbone and stayed there for a moment, following a drip of his sweat going down under his shirt. My fingers unconsciously touched mine. Realizing it, I shifted my hand to my necktie and tightened it even more.

It was when a beautiful girl came into the picture, waving a hand to catch his attention at first, she smiled playfully at him, the tips of her fingers softly touched her earlobe and slowly slid down to her rose cheek as she talked to him. The moment he spoke, her whole body rejoiced with her, her shoulders relaxed, her right foot gently rubbed against her left ankle as she intertwined her fingers behind her back. I took a sip of my drink, watching them chat, my hand froze before the glass could leave my lips. Lust and desire were what was driving people, nothing more, nothing less; all they needed was music to set the mood and a few drinks to blame it on the alcohol. Her hand intimately touched his chest, her laugh seemed a little forced as she shyly covered her lips; trying too hard I thought, I applauded her tenacity but scoffed at the scene anyway.

I was about to take another sip when he caught me staring, our eyes locked and I lowered my glass before I could taste the wine alerted. His browns knitted in a frown to show his vexation. Although I could not hear it, I could see him clicking his tongue at me. Annoyed by his irrational fixation I clicked mine in response without loosing eye contact. Seeing that she had lost his attention, the girl detected the source of her problem immediately and puckered her lips glaring, obviously blaming me for ruining the mood she tried so hard to set. Talking about fixation; I wasn't the one to talk, catching her eyes on me I took my chance and leered at her, raising my glass, just to piss him off. The girl blushed, he looked repulsed... nevertheless I felt like I won.

"Oh, here you are!"

Helena's head popped up behind the curtain and startled us both. We simultaneously averted our eyes, like children caught fighting behind an adult's back. Seeing her approaching me, he clutched his glass, I could see his knuckles turning white. After the last scene, I probably looked like a wolf to him so his action were partially justified. The blond girl stopped next to me, resting her hands on the rail. She softly closed her eyes, taking a big breath before talking.

"Your friend – Lucio was it – was looking for you."  
"Ah, and here I thought you were seeking my company," I smirked.

She blinked at me for a few seconds and then covered her mouth to hide her laughter. Slightly offended and confused, I sipped my drink again. Her beautiful face rested on her hand and a playful smile appeared on her lips, her blond hair waving under the light breeze. There was no sign of make up on her face, for a moment I thought that it must have been a sin for someone to be so naturally beautiful. Her bright blue eyes kept boring into mine and then all of me, as if judging a painting; was it good? Was it bad? She brought her fist on her chin, deep in thought, pointer tapping her lips and then curling in that lady like grace of her as if deciding.

"Giotto always dig up the weird ones," she giggled.  
"Pardon?"  
"I meant it as a compliment."  
"Do you tend to call people weird and play it off as a compliment?"  
"I don't know. Do you tend to hit on women just to piss off other men?"

Her eyebrows tilted slightly and she looked oh so satisfied by my baffled expression. Her hand moved from her face to the railings and caressed it softly. It took me a moment to register the situation in my mind and then I let my almost empty glass on the rail sighing in defeat. Pushing my body up, I sat on them letting my legs dangle and leaned towards her with a devilish smile, my index finger ran around the rim of my glass.

"I do it when I think it's fun. People are such fickle creatures after all. For example," with a smug smile on my face, I eyed the girl who was now fidgeting next to G. "Oh, I should have picked that one after all, she probably thinks. He would return my advances easier. What should I do? He is with a beautiful girl now, so I missed my chance, I'm stuck with this bore. Isn't it amusing?"

Her shoulders shook gently as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"Now, you are a confident one."  
"Am I?"  
"Yes, not many people can call G. a bore with a straight face."  
"You were referring to that part?"  
"You look surprised."  
"As a matter of fact, I am."  
"Hmm...since you just admitted that you like amusing things, I believe that you wouldn't bother with him if you honestly considered him a bore," she waved at him and he bashfully returned her gesture. "I actually like him a lot. I believe that you'll change your mind if you get to know him better—if you get to know all of us better..."

I frowned and hopped down, laughing wryly; as expected, you could not underestimate this woman, she had shifted the conversation right where she wanted. Giotto was the face of their family, yes, but that woman was the catalyst to their rapid uprising; intelligence, money, connections and a hunger for something bigger. I could not see nor imagine the future she envisioned. Trying to from a bond with a family like ours seemed strange to say the least, if not suspicious. Retreating the right time was also a key moment in battle, you could not form an effective strategy when you could not read the enemy and I could not read that woman. Being cautious was the least I could do, so I decided to head inside.

"Do you want me to tell you how I met Giotto? It's an interesting story," she offered as I shouldered past her.  
"I'm sure it is," my feet stopped on the spot and turned to face her with a fake smile. "But if I were to monopolize the lovely host of this gathering, every man here would hate me."  
"Well, then, I'll keep it for the next time we meet."

There was no point in replying, or even trying to sass her; better ignore her confidence and hide the sense of uneasiness that flooded me under her gaze. Admitting an interest to their family would be the same as falling to their net, no room for negotiations, it would not be on equal terms. And then again, I had yet to figure out why they were interested in mine. Giotto's sudden invitation was already suspicious and I was not a fool to believe that it happened as an apology for a mere quarrel.

The girl beside G. opened her mouth the moment I passed by her a bit flustered; she had given up on her previous target who was now completely ignoring her, since he was busy guarding Helena from a potential threat from afar. Too bad for her, she wouldn't have a better chance with her second target, either she didn't even have a chance to speak, thus immediately regretting showing any interest to another man in front of him. Alas, her dreams of having two guys fighting over her were terminated with a cold smile.

Inside, Giotto and friends had gathered around a table, sharing a few laughs. My eyes scanned the room. Vito had joined Giotto's group while Lucio had attacked the colorful buffet. It seemed his quest to find me was interrupted by his overpowering love for food. Shouldering by him, I grabbed him from the collar, dragging him along with me; surprised, he caught his plate just in time before it slipped on the floor in relief and stuffed his mouth, satisfied by the amount of food in it; how embarrassing.

My hand did not let his collar until I deposited him right next to Vito, who eyed him with the corner of his eyes and took the plate away forcefully, despite Lucio's silent, desperate reaction. He gestured to himself from the top to the bottom, as to say that he somehow had to maintain that huge body of his by powering it up with food, but his senior was merciless. Knowing him, it was not the first round of food he had devoured that night.

It was nearing midnight now and most of the men who had remained in the house had gathered around a table. After greeting some familiar faces, following the usual formalities, I found myself among them with a new drink in my hand, while they were in the midst of a heated debate.

My body felt hot, so I loosened my necktie a bit, the strong aroma of whiskey made me feel dizzy before the glass could even touch my lips. It was unlike me to overindulge in alcohol, but I could not fight back the urge that day.

Spade seemed to lead their discussion quite enthusiastically, and I sprawled on my chair only to realize that the hot-tempered red head was man-spreading in the adjacent seat.

He must have joined them when I was going around paying unpleasant pleasantries to people I didn't even like, so I hadn't noticed. He had finished his own drink and now his fingers were tapping the table nervously; his fingers were tapping the table nervously; huh. Where they always so long? And his skin was slightly tanned. Our eyes locked the moment I looked up, staring at each other, both refusing to be the first one to break. Spade stood up to emphasize his point; that gave us the chance to look away.

G., trying to conceal the awkwardness, poured himself another glass of wine.

"It was not too long ago, when nobility enforced the law through private armies, meting out justice as they pleased. Our fathers and grandfather's experienced the change first hand. Of course, no one would care about the citizens at that time. That became evident by the police's clumsy attempt to "eliminate" crime. It was the need for protection that help people like us rise to power! So, I firmly believe that it is our duty to protect those in need. The ways of old nobility were wrong...and I'm here to testify as a living remnant," he joked in the end, trying to lighten the mood, and a few nodded to his words.

Humor, always seemed so necessary; ridiculous how people would agree to anything if you just made them laugh.

"Aren't you sugar-coating things?" Vito countered. "I won't deny that there could be cases driven by a more noble cause; but it was never about protecting people. It's apparent by the current social structure and the nature of each family. Though there is a versatility of causes and effects, the undeniable reality is that every sect strives for profit."  
"Aren't you just saying that because you've learned to live based on prior beliefs, thus you do not aspire to change the current societal standards?" Spade focused his attention to him.  
"What you described earlier is nothing but a Utopia."  
"Utopia?" Giotto interfered. "I would use that term only if we were talking about something deliberately impossible, _but_ using your strength to protect others is a choice, not a fantasy."

"Ah, is Vito referring to that book he was reading?" I gulped down the rest of my drink. "In the so called Utopia, criminals like us wouldn't be slaves with golden chains? Well, now we are slaves to gold, so how should we describe this? Poetic justice?"

"People are born different since the day they are born with varying background and capabilities. Of course some can break through, but not everyone can become successful," Vito insisted. "In the end, he world we live in an unequal one, only the strong ones can affect it. So I'm not sure if we are talking about past mistakes, or about a path people inevitably choose."

G. stood up, furious knocking his chair down in the process.

"I assume…" he spoke through gritted teeth and balled fists. "...what you are trying to say is that you should use your strength only for personal gain..."  
"G, let's talk this out..." a short haired man tried to calm him down unsuccessfully.  
"...living at the expense of others, only to satisfy your personal greed."  
"That's not exactly-"  
"Don't deny it, Vito," I drawled, emptying the last drips of whiskey left in glass in my mouth and let it hang from my fingertips. "Our business is not based on kindness. But talking about protecting the weak and the poor so lightly, drinking idly in this extravagant home, isn't it another form of... self-satisfaction?"

A painful silence hanged in the air.

It wasn't the most thoughtful interjection, but it was how I felt at that moment. His eyes crawled up my body with unrestrained disgust, which he voiced moments later, slamming both of his hands on the table as a warning, alarming, everyone in the room. Vito reached his hand under his jacket, completely on guard; I raised my hand, signaling him to stop while the short haired man had grabbed G, pulling him away.

"It's because of people like you—"

"G, enough!" Giotto bellowed.

His boss's glare made him cool his head a bit and when he looked around for support only to meet his collegues' irked expression. It was only natural; they had worked very hard for this gathering, petty squabbles could only cast a shadow over the whole event. The muscles on G.'s neck tensed as he smothered a grunt. His eyes turned to me again and then glanced at his subordinate who was still holding him back, worryingly. From his reaction one could tell that G was easy to break into fights.

"Maybe so," I replied to his half-finished accusation.

That startled him. His whole body relaxed as he stared back. What, was he expecting a denial? To be honest I was not anticipating such an overreaction when I spoke and I wasn't exactly loving the attention it got, as people had already started murmuring in the background. He didn't seem to like it either, as his eyes wandered over to Giotto whose expression was pleading him to end this. He clicked his tongue in defeat, wrestling himself out of the man's grip.

"Let go off me, Knuckles," he hissed. Then his eyes darted to me, venom in his glare. "Why are you even here?" he snubbed, before storming out of the room.  
"G!" of course it was Helena who spoke, trying to reason with him. "Pardon him, he is a bit stressed these days."

She looked anxious, seeing me standing up.

There was no need, I had no intention to prolong this argument. It's not like I was feeling insulted either; it almost felt like he had voiced my thoughts. What was I even there for? I glimpsed at those who were whispering about our clash, some of them seemed to enjoy it even. Bearded, greedy men and capricious women, how could people like that even protect someone? They could not even discern if someone was in need. Somehow I envied their naivety, this world could never change.

And he was right, it was because of people like us. The lights, their laughter, their eyes fixated on me; my hand touched my neck as though invisible threads were strangling me. I wished almost everyone in there would drop dead.

"Sir..."

My feet moved unconsciously, I had to leave that place. Ignoring Vito's voice calling for me, I headed to the veranda, once again, gasping for air. He was right, maybe it was a bad idea from the start, maybe I was not cut out for this, maybe I should have rejected the invitation. In retrospect, Vito's evaluation was right, but thinking back now, I do not regret accepting.

He was standing under the willow tree, resting his back on the tree trunk. The moon was bright that night, it was easy to spot him, his eyes half-closed, his bangs were waving under the light breeze; he looked exhausted. Guided by an impulse, I hopped down the veranda after checking if anyone was watching and ended up between the bushes. There was no real motive behind that, just a whim. Hesitantly at first, I sauntered towards him while enjoying the starry sky.

The first dry weeds of autumn cracked under my feet with each step, making my presence known before I ever reached him. His disappointed expression upon realizing who it was made it clear that he would rather see someone, anyone else coming towards him. His back left the comforting support of the willow tree, probably inwardly debating if he should leave or not, a non-lit cigarette dangling absently between his fingers.

"Did you come for a second round?"

His voice hoarse, maybe he thought he could have a rematch for the humiliation he had experienced. Sighing at his question, I sat on the soft grass, my fingers touched the brisk ground. My reflection on the pond's surface looked grim, there was no energy left for an argument, but I thought I should humor him.

"Should I?"

He scoffed.

"I just needed a breath of fresh air..." I admitted. "The atmosphere in there is unbearable."  
"Wow, who would have thought we had something in common?"  
"I don't have many things in common with idiots."  
"Are you really-"  
"You should really learn to control your temper; if not for your own good, then for your boss's."

He bit his tongue but had to say something. "And since when do you care about my boss?"

"I don't," I threw my head back, offering him a smug smile. "I just thought how I'd feel if I were him. You really blew things back there, learn to respect his guests even if you don't like them."  
"You sure don't make it it easy," he sat next to me, exhausted and rubbed the nape of his neck.  
"And I didn't even try that hard," I snickered.

It seemed he was not in the mood to continue the fight either; he exhaled deeply and moved his shoulders back, squeezing his shoulders blade together to relief some tension. I believe it was the first time I saw his face relaxed. Then he yawned unapologetically and then rested his right hand on his bent knee. Noticing that I was watching him in utter stillness, he arched an eyebrow.

"I won't apologize you know, it's how I felt."  
"I wasn't expecting an apology anyway," he shrugged.  
"At least you are honest."

We both looked at the sky in silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, do you really believe that others are not worth protecting even if it's within your power?"  
"You are asking that again?"

He looked at me straight in the eyes; a sigh escaped me at his stubbornness. "I don't believe it's that simple. It's not only that I don't feel the obligation...people can be driven to despair while waiting for others to help. And honestly I'd rather protect myself before anyone else. Plus, even if you try your best you won't be able to protect everyone, so won't you feel powerless at some point?"  
"Yes, that's unavoidable. But…I think that I'd prefer feeling powerless after trying to help than not trying at all," he leaned back. "Of course, if I could, I'd like to help everyone, but I believe that even helping one person can make a difference. Maybe that person will save another next and the other person another one."  
"Creating a ripple effect… Not too bad of an idea, but do you think people are nice enough for that to happen?"  
He snorted. "Well, maybe I'm an optimist."  
"An optimist? From my point of you, you are just naive."  
"I'm not that naive to believe that everyone is nice enough to help others; you are a fine example of that."  
"Thank you I guess."  
"It was not a compliment."  
"It wasn't? I thought being the representative of humanity is quite the title."  
"But I believe people can change," he hid a titter.

A faint smile appeared on his lips, his eyes a little brighter; it gave him a boyish look while my brain was fighting against the word it tried to register upon seeing him like that. As my hand slowly reached for his face, I could not hold back the desire to touch it. An undefined pain, a knot in my stomach, I felt sick. the attraction I was experiencing was unreasonable in my mind, so dismissing it seemed the right thing to do. Seeing my hand lingering near his face startled him, there would be no believable explanation if I would just pull it back; I had to think of something so, in a rash decision, I decided to pick his cigarettes' from his shirt's pocket without even asking for permission.

"What the hell? You could just ask," he said as I tapped the box to get one out. "Are you a smoker too? You didn't seem like one."

"Only when I feel like it...and I think I could use one right now."

It looked like a fine excuse and it's not like I was completely lying at that moment, but it soon backfired. How could you light one up without a lighter? The cigar in my hand was rendered useless, as I placed it between my lips awkwardly. He snorted, it was not hard to realize my miscalculation, nor my stubbornness.

"Well, you could at least ask me to light it for you," he said and took out his matches.

He opened the box and picked one out, lighting it up smoothly. Suddenly his face was too close to mine, the match's fire dancing between our cigars toasting their tips and illuminating his face. He took a small puff and looked up at me questioningly; I was frozen, feeling my heartbeat rising, beating faster and faster, making me numb. I imitated him, puffing a bit more forcefully, until the tip of mine lit and then turned my face away. He waved the match in the air to put it out and threw it on the ground.

"It doesn't suit your taste?" he asked, looking for an answer.  
"It's fine."  
"Are you ok?"

My eyes widened, I looked up as his hand touched my forehead, he looked worried. What was happening? I crawled back, distressed by his action, letting the cigar fall down on my shirt, mouth agape. But then, my whole body convulsed, as if it was protesting for avoiding his touch. He looked confused and picked up the cigarette, away from my clothes.

"Did I startle you?" he moved closer, leaning over me, dusting off my shirt.

Now conscious of his touch, I slapped his hand away. I didn't want anyone touching me, not there, not anywhere, so why was my breath abnormal? Why did I have to deal with a weird sense of excitement? Avoiding his puzzled face, I stood up, straightening my clothes. He followed, trying to examine my face.

"Hey, are-" he placed a hand on my shoulder.

Before I could react, I heard someone approaching fast. Surprised, I saw Vito's angry face, he grabbed G's hand, pushing him away.

"Sir, are you ok? Did he provoke you into a fight?"  
"What the hell?" G. looked furious. "I was just checking up on him. Tell him."  
"You shouldn't have..."  
"What?"  
"Since when is my health your concern?" I huffed.  
"You heard him," Vito's voice held warning.

He ignored him, with the corner of my eyes I saw his disappointed face, he pursed his lips.

"Why are you like this?"

He did not wait for an answer. He threw his cigar down, stomped on it and left without another word.

It was fine like that; I couldn't handle it, it was better that he left. My forehead was still burning, I touched the place he had placed his hand on my shoulder. Being aware of my unusual reaction made matters worse. It was because of the alcohol, I drank too much, I repeated again and again, because it was always easier to blame it on the alcohol. It was not normal, a man should not act like this.

"Sir, I think you need to rest," Vito's voice snapped me out of it.

That's right. Vito was there. I had to act cool, but his presence had the opposite effect. What would I have done if he hadn't? Would I have run away? No, I could not do that. Why was he there anywhere? Why did he looked concerned? Did I look that weak to them? I'm not weak, I thought. I am not.

"Vito..."

I turned to him. The anxiety swirling inside me was transforming into anger, feeding my usual passive aggressive nature. "It came to my attention…that you hardly ever call me boss."  
"That-"  
"Maybe you should work on that, at least in front of others."  
"...I'm sorry, I'll keep that in mind."  
"I can handle things on my own. Stop following me everywhere."

I wanted to be left alone, shut out every thought...but inevitably, I was already thrown into confusion.


	4. Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars

**Hello and thanks for reading! I had enjoyed writing this chapter despite editing it again and again because I was not satisfied. I hope you'll enjoy reading it. Strangely enough, the hardest and at the same time the best part is choosing a Frank Sinatra song for the Chapter Title! I think this one fits the original character quite well in general! **

**As always FallenAngelItachi was in charge of the beta. Thanks for your hard work! **

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**"Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars "**

A dim light and the sweet smell of vanilla...

The woman was tip-toeing across the room, letting her dress slip from her shoulders. Picking a new, royal blue one, she changed into it; she loved that color as much as she liked that scent. Carefully putting on her red lipstick, she test-pressed her lips and ran her fingers through her long hair. Pleased with her reflection, she smiled wide, her hands rested on her hips and she twirled to show off how perfectly her new dress fit her. It was no surprise, she'd look perfect even in the ugliest dress, partly because of her beauty, partly because of her confidence. She was radiant and self assured, something one could envy. Many times I wondered how her life would have turned out if she had walked another path. A bright, beautiful young woman, sold by her own parents to pay off their debts in young age and yet, even under these conditions, she turned herself into a powerful asset. Loyal to none, she loved to make money for herself, winning the affections of many. It was her only freedom in a life devoid of it.

I believed that a woman like her wouldn't like to grow old, her youth was what gave her power after all, but it seemed that my assumption could not be more wrong. I only dared bring it up once. It was the first time her eyes clouded, a self-deprecating smile appeared on her face. She said then, that if she could die of old age alone in her bed, she would be thankful. What could have gone through her mind when she said that?

Santina… probably could not see herself growing old no matter how much she wished for it; her own words betrayed she probably couldn't see herself with someone by her side either. Had she ever loved? Could she see herself loving someone? It'd been rude to ask at that moment, while putting up her best smile to cover her sadness, and so I decided against it.

She wrapped my tie around her hand and pulled me close to her face, as a playful smile appeared on her lips. Beauty, unblemished skin...no wonder she was considered one of the most beautiful girls in town. She licked her lips seductively and pinned her long leg between mine, kissing my neck, hands caressing my back. Her pump slipped from her foot and hit the wooden floor; she paid no mind to it. Unfazed, I let my drink down on the table and proceeded to take out a bunch of banknotes from my pocket. Hearing the rustling sound next to her face, she slowly opened her eyes, lips stopped moving and a deep sigh escaped them.

Her breath tingled my skin and I rubbed the spot feeling uncomfortable. She looked at me pouting first and then at the money, which she then gabbed and placed between her breasts. Tch, my hand was red from her lipstick but trying to wipe it off with my other hand, it became even messier.

"You know, I don't mind getting money without providing any service, but I really don't get the idea behind this."

She said it quite often, it must have been a huge turn off. She removed her body from mine and laid on her bed, exhaling deeply, not bothering to hide her displeasure. Her foot brushed against the remaining pump, letting it slip down too. The ice in my glass clanked and we remained silent. How could I explain it?

And why should I explain it anyway? It was convenient to me and beneficial for her; simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less. It'd sleep there, rumors would spread. It was a shock to her at first, then she became curious about it and started to see it as a challenge, but after repeatedly failing to get a reaction she started asking questions and sometimes became more daring in her approach. Her eyes cursorily looked at the mark she left, a vengeful smile indicated that she enjoyed seeing my failed attempt to remove it.

"I know you said you don't like to be touched and all, but what's the point of coming here if that's the case? Such a frigid man...not that I dislike everyone calling me boss' favorite girl, but I've started questioning my own sex appeal," she stretched her toes nonchalantly. "Well, still better than having to keep company to old creeps. And you do pay well..."

"So everyone is happy."

"Really? You've never look happy while you are with me..." her eyes locked with mine. "You are whispering pretty words to me like the devil, but you never really look at me, never touch me. It all feels like a ploy, using me to avoid other women."

"If I'm the devil, what makes you for accepting the deal?" I simpered.

"A fool, maybe. A fool with not much of a choice."

"Well, I haven't asked for your soul… yet. So it sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

"A devil who desires nothing, sounds pretty sad though. What has caused its fall if not desire?"

"And now you are pitying me?" her eyes followed me as I stood up, she pursed her lips and turned her back to me, nestling up on her sheets. "I wonder what would happen if a demon sold his soul to a human."

"Wouldn't that be impossible? Supposedly, he has no soul..."

No reply.

Her pointer drew circles on her bed; she was breathing calmly but her silence narked me; where was the bold woman who had called me demon without caring for the consequences a few seconds ago? Losing interest so easily after initiating the conversation; it made my answer sound inane and that irritated me. But I disliked letting the discussion hanging, even more. Her refusal to continue felt more like an implication directed towards me than a disinterest to my answer. You have your answer already, she didn't voice it, but I assumed that it was what she was thinking.

"It'd make a great story, I think. Like that Dracula book which is popular lately. Maybe we could sell it."

"At least your love for money is true, boss," her sigh deep, her gaze turned to the ceiling.

"Does that make me more of a human?" I put on my coat.

"You are a human, alright," she chuckled, her mood slightly restored. "Are you leaving already?"

"It's late in the morning, you should rest, too."

"Rest?" She snorted, amused. "It's like having a day off when you spend the night here." Her eyes snapped to her armchair for a second then, almost enviously. "How can you even sleep on that thing, anyway?"

"It's surprisingly comfy. I can drink and read all I want, too."

"Andrea, you sure drink a lot lately, something on your mind?"

"Not really." A doubtful, raised eyebrow later, I rolled my eyes. "I'm off."

"Take care..."

Dismissing her concerned gaze, I waved goodbye at her closing the door behind me. It was not a lie, spending a night there, in her semi-basement dressing room with its dim light and the aromatic candles, watching her sleep was more relaxing than my own room. Maybe because there was someone there to reduce the loneliness, her breathing had a relaxing effect.

I entered the main hall of the bar, leaving her room behind; it was quiet now, unlike during the night. The barman was swiping the glasses thoroughly while light music was playing in the background. The chairs carefully placed on the tables, the floor swept clean and at the end of the counter a woman sipping a dry martini. Her loose fitting, sleeveless, navy gray dress reached just a couple of inches below her knee. Its drop-waist made her look taller than she was, complimenting her gaunt figure. Two diagonal panels of the front of the skirt crossed in the middle, making the sides slightly longer. The right panel formed beautiful drapes on the side and was decorated with a cute bow. She knew how to dress classy. A matching felt on her head covered her short, black hair. Her white gloves and purse placed on the seat next to her, she was holding her tobacco pipe between her long fingers, nails trimmed to perfection. She let the smoke dribble out of her mouth, exhaling slowly. Her lips painted with her preferred dark, red lipstick; her beauty was fierce, captivating. I was surprised to see her there thus I approached a bit hesitantly. Her hazel eyes met mine, she flicked her cigarette lightly on the ashtray and tapped the counter impatiently.

"Lorenza… What brings you here?"

Trying to sound as insouciant as I could while taking a seat next to her didn't work. Her bleak mood was betraying her anger. There was not even the need to speculate the source of it, but for her to visit at that time of the day without a prior notice was rare. I motioned the barman to bring another glass of martini while trying to avoid her glare but she wouldn't have it. Who could guess that dealing with Vito would be the least of my problems that day.

"I'm quite sure you already know why I am here. Using my tip without even consulting me and so carelessly at that, causing a friction between me and my insider… Plus using a girl that way..."

"I believe I asked Fabio to pay you double the usual amount."

"It's not about the money," her hand stopped before reaching her glass. "It was not even meant as a serious tip, I just informed you about Ricci's family situation to take advantage of his disorientation to gain ground, not take advantage of that girl."

"You can report your complains to Vito; I can compensate you for the loss of your informant, too but what's done is done."

"You can be such an asshole sometimes, Andrea," she gulped the rest of her drink and proceeded to claim mine as hers the moment the barman placed it on the counter. "You could at least say sorry for once."

"But I don't feel sorry."

"That's the problem!" She threw her hand in the air to emphasize her eruption.

"Says the girl who helped herself with my drink without even asking."

"Treat a girl with a drink, will you? That's the least you could do as an apology or your actions. Do you feel rebellious lately? I heard you caused a scene twice within the span of one week, the second one being at Vongola's mansion." She gave me a look. "And you know people like to talk. This isn't like you," she rattled on.

"It was not my intention," I shrugged and placed my elbows on the counter.

"So, what do you think of the Vongola family?"

"Quite virtuous for a bunch of people calling themselves mafia. I mean we all pretend to be virtuous on the outside, but they actually act like that out of conviction. It's amusing, actually."

"I can snoop around if you want."

"I met that girl, Helena. She was a cunning one...made it quite obvious that they had investigated us already on purpose, so stay low for now."

"Strange; you always value information even if it involves a bit of risk. Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will."

Her eyebrows furrowed, her face judging; like daggers her eyes looked directly at the mark Santina's lipstick had left on my neck. I took a mental note to wipe it out properly before going out again. She shook her head in disapproval and picked up her cigarette, its light smell wafted to my nose.

"Playing around while you are clearly not interested in anyone; quite a farcical behavior."

"Jealous? Do you want to take her place?"

"I like my men obedient and looking only at me," she smirked. "You'd never be able to do that."

"No objections here."

"You are not my type either."

"That's harsh," I clenched my chest.

"Don't even pretend being hurt," she slapped my hand away laughing. "You are so bad at it too."

"Rejected at the speed of light, that's a new experience."

"Sir..." Vito's voice interrupted the moment. "I mean, boss."

He looked conflicted and decided not to approach. My smile vanished and I stood up clapping Lorenza's shoulder. Time had passed before I knew it and I had forgotten my initial destination; the office. Lorenza looked past my shoulder and waved at Vito who simply nodded in response and turned his attention to me pointing at the papers in his hands.

"There are a few things I'd like you to go over. Also yesterday's report-"

"It seems my time is up," I waved and then placed my hands in my pockets. "Visit more often, Lorenza."

Shouldering past Vito, I grabbed the papers he was holding without warning, picking up my pace as I walked towards the office. He kept filling me in with the details from cases and events until I was finally left with my papers...my many, many papers.

It took the entire morning, noon and afternoon to finish; it was exhausting. Feeling the need to take a breaker with every fiber of my being, I allowed myself to wander my own personal paradise: Coppola's tailor shop. Located in an alley near the port, it was packed with fine fabric rolls, tailor-made suits and hats; and very expensive shoes. The only thing needed to be treated a like god there? Money. Coincidentally, I had plenty of that.

Angelo, a dapper, mustachioed man with gray hair, was a 3rd generation tailor and as such, took a lot of pride in his work and its tradition. With a needle and a black thread attached to his side pocket and a measuring tape around his neck, he took half a step back to admire his own creation as I was trying on a three piece, navy blue suit in front of the mirror. He was mighty pleased with the result, nodding to himself. He clapped his hands once in excitement and gestured to his assistant to join him while I was feeling the quality of the textile.

"As expected, Mr. Alfieri, it suits you well."

"Hm, good work with the adjustments."  
"Now, if you add this hat," he placed it on my head. "I believe it will complete your look. I'll offer a special discount just for you," he cajoled. "Since you are a repeat customer."

"I'll take it. Deliver it to my house," I ordered.

"Would you like to take a look in our new tie collection?" he presented the box without waiting for an answer.  
"Yes; let me change first."

A few minutes later, pondering over which color to choose, I was standing in front of the counter, cupping my chin. The seasoned tailor was presenting them enthusiastically, mentioning which ones would match the new suit perfectly when the corner of my eyes caught a glimpse of a very familiar tattoo. Surprised, I looked outside right before the strands of his red hair, half-hidden under a gray hat, disappear at the end of the shop's window. Ignoring Angelo's unnecessarily long explanation about his technique and the latest fashion, I rushed to the door to confirm that I was not mistaken. With the door half-opened, I popped my head outside, hanging by the door frame. He had just taken the turn towards the port, holding a bag full of groceries. Without even thinking my next action, I dug into my pockets and left him a fair deposit on the counter, waving them goodbye.

"Mr. Alfieri, what about the tie?" Angelo despaired, he had wasted way too much of his time not to sell anything.

"Just choose whichever one you want, we'll pay you on delivery," I assured him, waving with both hands through his window.

He hung his shoulders and then shrugged, defeated. One was still better than nothing.

Trotting down the slope, hands in my pockets and inexplicably perked up by the unexpected meeting, my eyes scanned the area the moment I turned the corner. It lead to a plaza, full of small stores, usually buzzing with people. Families and couples loved to take a stroll around the area, there were many good places to eat and enjoy your night. It was not that hard to spot him, but when I did, I pursed my upper lip, slowing down; he was cheerfully talking with a brunette which seemed to enjoy the attention she was receiving. I did not bother to explain the irritation I felt when I witnessed that; with a devilish smile on my lips I almost skipped towards them without a care, waving at a couple of acquaintances on the way and didn't stop until I placed my hand around his shoulders, hanging my weight on him. Startled as he was, he looked at me speechless when realized who had dared to act so friendly with him.

"What a coincidence, G!" I effused without even looking at him. "And who is this fair lady?" I didn't wait for an answer, simply took her hand in mind. "Andrea," I introduced myself and kissed the back of it. Appreciatively, but quite suggestively, my eyes looked her up and down.

I ignored his discomfort and pressed on. "This one a keeper, much more beautiful than the one the other night," I commented without shame.

"Wha-" the girl tensed.

"I much prefer the innocent type myself. It gives you a sense of purs—"

He grabbed me by my tie before I could continue, dragging me away. He was about to loose his temper again.

His face looked scary—you could even see a vein popping from anger on his forehead, face wrinkled around the nose and mouth. He was always smoking, so I had never really noticed how expressive his mouth was before. I just raised my hands in a defeated way, trying to pacify him, while his fingers clutched the paper bag more and more by each casual word I was spouting while following him, keeping a short distance between us on purpose. But words could not describe how much I was enjoying myself seeing him like this, pettiness notwithstanding, as if I was satisfied by the knowledge I got him all hot and bothered. He was trying his best to stay calm, though, I give him that.

So that was not enough to make him speak; I decided to change tactics. Arching an eyebrow, glancing at said bag. "Doing grocery shopping for the boss?"  
"I'm his subordinate, not his maid!"

He finally stopped and turned to look behind him, angrily. I had to stop on my heels, not to bump into him. Honestly insulted by my comment and disappointed by himself for giving in to my goading, he hanged his head and sighed deeply before regaining his composure. He clicked his tongue again and I realized this must be one of his favorite habits.

"What do you want, Alfieri? You've already ruined my afternoon, aren't you satisfied?"  
"Eh? Really?" I peeked into his bag. "Are these for yourself if not for your boss? Flour and eggs and-" I rifled through the bag.  
"Well, nothing beats homemade pasta-" he also looked inside his bag, distracted. "Hold on, you didn't even answer my question! And" shaking his head disappointed, he slapped my hand away "looking into other people's things…don't you have manners?"  
"Do you cook for yourself?"  
"Not everyone has a maid at home, you know."

He started walking again, putting a stop to the conversation, but halted again soon enough noticing that I was still following him. We had left the plaza behind us, but you could still hear the buzzing sound of the people talking.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"  
"You mean better than picking up girls in the plaza? Yeah, I think I can give you a pointer or two."  
"Listen, you ass-"

Finally loosing it, he grabbed my jacket using both of his hands, letting the bag he was holding fall on the ground. A cracking sound followed and our eyes lowered to the ground, breaking contact, as the white powder dirtied the road and a bit of egg white flowed out while the red whine soaked the bag.

"Now I'm not an expert, but I bet this is not how you mix the flour and the eggs," I quipped.  
"Just great..." he frowned and loosened his grip. "You are like a plague, Alfieri, every time I meet you, my day is ruined."

Picking up on his groceries, he threw them away in the nearest bucket, contemplating at the loss of his dinner and then put his left hand in his pocket taking out the box of his cigarettes. He rubbed the back of his neck; I heard a cracking sound when he titled his head to the side, his face twitched. My smile had vanished, his words had affected me more than I could've imagined yet my eyes could not stop scanning every inch of him. I've been called a lot of things these days, but somehow him calling me a plague made my heart sink. So that was his impression of me, not that I had done anything to make him think higher of me. I watched his back as he retreated, standing there silent, expecting him to leave without even saying goodbye, when he stopped and looked over his shoulder questioningly.

"Are you coming or what?" he asked bashfully.

My mouth hang. "What?"

"You owe me a drink...and maybe a dinner," he said.

"It's not my fault you dropped them," I shrugged. "But…maybe I know just the place. Can you wait here?"

"Hey! Don't you dare disappear!" he called.

"I won't!"

My feet felt light, I had no intention to disappear, actually, his demand was so surprising, it caused a weird feeling in my stomach. Normally he would not want to spend even a single moment more with me, but it seemed that was not the case. I came back, holding two bottles of beer and a paper cone full of piping-hot arancini. Prompting him to follow me, I led the way and didn't answer him no matter how many times he asked where we were going, so he kept grunting, trying to keep up with my pace.

When we finally reached the old port, I gave the paper cone to him, skipped over a few rocks and walked until I reached the edge of the platform. The weary wood creaked under my steps. Old boats bobbing tugged on the mooring of the pier and the calming sensation of the salty breeze; I loved the place, especially during the night, so close to town yet so quiet, like it was forgotten by everyone. I had spent the night there quiet a few times, it was very beautiful during a full moon, the abandoned old boats on the shore made a nice bed. There were nights I could not sleep, so I'd stay there accompanied by a nice glass of wine until sunrise when the first seagulls would fill the air with their beating wings and cries. The sea waves never tired, smashing against the rocks, were more soothing than the best music, like a beautiful, natural lullaby.

"Here we are" I sat down and jiggled the bottle between my fingers.

He approached hesitantly, looking around him while I popped the bottles open using the edge of the pier, unavoidably letting its foam leak. I placed one next to me while taking a sip from the other. The night was beautiful yet again, you could see the stars even clearer there. G picked up the bottle and stayed quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of the waves.

"You know, I wouldn't peg you the type to choose a place like this," he admitted. "Or a drink like this… "

"I'm more of a wine person to be honest, but this kind of stuff isn't bad from time to time," I raised the bottle. "As for this place… I'd take any place like this over a crowded one. So, welcome to my secret, personal paradise!"

"Paradise?" he looked around. "Each their own I guess."

"Maybe it's because you like people, G. ..."

"It depends on the person," sitting right next to me, he took another sip from his drink. "But generally, I do like people."

Our bodies were so close, it was impossible to tell if our shoulders were touching or not but the thought alone still made my heart beat erratically. Suddenly conscious of his body heat, my whole body stiffened, my grip tightened around the bottle, not daring to look to my left. Even without looking though, I knew what he did; I was hyperaware of his every move. Taking a deep breath, my sense of smell was assaulted by his body odor, and my eyes widened from the surge of excitement.

"Does that imply you don't particularly like people?"

His question surprised me.

I turned to him; he was munching an arancini nonchalantly. Feeling like an idiot for tensing like that around him without a clear reason, I put my bottle beside me and breathed sharply through my nose.

"I really don't. But I don't think people like me either."

"It's quite clear already. Do you want them to like you, though?" he asked while munching.

"...Maybe I don't."

"I don't care if people like me, but I still like people in general. Especially those who try hard to survive, those who try hard to protect those they love…people fighting against all odds..."

"So you can see good in almost everyone."

"Giotto can… I can't. But I do believe in effort. And I believe people can change."

"You' re a weird one."

"Am I?"

"And with a weird fashion sense ."

"What?"

"I mean..." my eyebrows shot high. "The hat? A total no. Did you even look at your self in the mirror before buying it?"

"She said it looked good on me," he flushed, shocked by the words.  
"Maybe she liked the face wearing it. People give fake compliments all the time, why are you so shocked by that?"

He removed the hat, looking embarrassed.

"Spade did say it looked horrible," he mumbled.

"To think that even the guy with the weird fashion sense didn't like it, but you still wore it..."

"I thought it looked fine, ok?" he clicked his tongue once again. "And she did look interested."

"Were you interested?"

"Well, she is pretty..." he rubbed his nape. "It wouldn't be bad to get to know her. If a specific someone had not ruined it, maybe I'd have a chance. But here I am, drinking beer, getting bashed over my fashion sense..."

"Well, sorry about that," I laughed out loud. "At least I got you the best arancini you could get around town, didn't I?"

"They are great, I have to admit that," he said. "But aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm fine, no need-"

"You should eat."

"Wha-!"

He forced one into my mouth. "No drinking on an empty stomach," he smirked. "That will keep your mouth shut for a few seconds at least."

I pushed away his fingers pressing again my lips and looked away, forcing myself to chew, feeling my whole face burning. He looked pleased, seeing me annoyed while I was gulping down the arancini. Still wary of his touch, I took another one, in an attempt to steal some time to regain my cool. He took the chance to talk about the food he liked, it seemed like he enjoyed cooking for himself; he talked about food passionately, it was something he used to share with his friends in the past, so it held a special meaning to him. Sharing a simple meal like that, by the sea...

Could this become a special memory, I wondered? Maybe not to him, I thought, but I sensed that it'd become a special memory for me.

The wind became stronger, licking my lips I could taste the salt it had whipped on our exposed skin mixed with the bitter taste of beer. It made his hair wave. He run his fingers through them, combing them back, away from his face; it ticked him off a bit and strangely it brought a smile to my face. As I thought, he looked better without the hat.

"Something strange on my face?" he asked.

"No, not really..." his question caught me by surprise.

"Well, it's getting a bit late though, I think I should go," he said looking at his pocket watch.

"Sorry for making you spend the night like this," I leaned back, supporting myself with my hands.

"It was not that bad after all," he said.

"Well, do you hate me a little less now?" I joked.

"I don't hate you."

His eyes met mine in all seriousness. Astonished by his sincere reply, I froze.

My heart raced; it was not fair, making my heart race again and again every time, occupying my thoughts since the day I met him. Why should I feel like that? It was painful, like someone was trying to forcefully untangle the threads that were strangling me and I had come to terms with. Why him though? Why was I unable to take my eyes off of him? I bit the inside of my lips.

"I may have said some cruel things, too," he added. "And we don't agree on many things, but ultimately I can't say I hate you," he stood up. "Alfieri, why don't you try take my boss' offer? You don't have to commit yourself to it, but you could try getting to know his philosophy."

"I wonder if there would be anything to gain if I'd do that."

"Maybe you'd gain the knowledge that not everything has to do with gain," he smirked. "Think about it."

"Maybe I will."

"Aren't you going to come?"

"I think I'll stay here a bit more."

"It's a rusty place… But maybe I could get used to it," he smiled softly looking at the sea."Goodnight then, I'll take this with me," he said raising his half-empty bottle. "Thanks for the drink."

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, I felt something on my head, his hands pressed against it when I tried to look up, preventing me from looking at him. Acting a bit diffident, unlike his usual confident attitude, he exhaled deeply. Maybe his was more self-conscious about his appearance than he let on.

"I'll give that to you," he finally said.

My heart skipped a beat; my hands touched the tips of his hat and I refused to look at him. The sound of his steps steadily faded as he wandered away. Taking a big breath, I stood and tried to focus on the sound of the waves. I bit my tongue and then ran it over my teeth, I had barely held myself back from asking him to stay a little longer, my mind skimmed through a plethora of topics I could use to prolong the conversation but, ultimately, did not. It had gotten pretty dark, it was only normal he would leave; I had to stay there to calm my self down.

The bitter taste of beer suited that night. Gulping down the rest of it I snorted at myself.

Steps again. Had he forgotten something?

I turned around only to face an unfamiliar shadow; my eyes widened, I had let my guard down. The bottle slipped down my fingers and shuttered on the ground. My eyes followed it. My fingers twitched. The man breathed heavily, my pupils moved his way bit I could not recognize him.

Suddenly, he moved! He came close and I didn't move fast enough to avoid him. Then, pain...at first, I could not tell what had happened, it was like he had punched me hard in the abdomen, yet I could not respond. Frustrated with myself, strangely my first thought was that I was disgusted by his breath on my shoulder and his body touching mine. I pushed him back; he looked anxious, his eyes fixated on my body. Only then did I notice the wet sensation on my skin, and instinctively touched the place he was staring at. Lowering my gaze, I saw the switchblade and examined the red liquid in my hand…blood.

"Pffttt…so that's how it is," I laughed noticing a bunch of dark figures looming in the background as I reached for my gun; the true extent of the pain did not kick in until I realized I had been stabbed. "Quite the brave one, you are commendable."

"You are crazy," the man breathed. "Laughing at a time like this."

My eyes became small, deadly. "But then again, you shouldn't let go of your weapon." I shot him. "Not that it would work against a gun."

The man screeched, but I knew I had failed to hit a vital point; I could not focus. How many bullets had I left, how many of them were there? Who had given them the tip? Were they following me for long? Why did I fail to notice them? What about G.? Did they get him? Was he ok? They appeared right after he left. I'd probably be able to take out two of three of them, but it'd be hard to run away with my wound. How should I reach my place?

The sound of glass shuttering; a man screaming, gunshots and a streak of red. I stepped forward, grimacing from the pain, when the man finally reached my position. He was making a dash for it. Shouts and swearing, the distant sound of waves mixed with pain and dizziness—I could not focus or react; my eyes just followed his red hair dancing in the air as he wrapped his arm around my chest, whispering to me to trust him. Not that I had much of a choice.

But even after grabbing me, he did not stop. I only felt the air hitting my face, the smell of water coming closer...until my body hit the water hard, pain intensifying. I barely managed to hold my breath, as we sank into the dark, cold sea, was he trying to kill me?

It took us a few seconds to resurface, I was about to drown and it did nothing for my stab. Thank god he was dragging me along as he swam fiercely, because I could barely move. The men were shouting at each other by the shore, shooting randomly at the sea, hoping they might hit something and a couple of them nearly did; us. The night was our only cover. His arm tightened more around me, I could feel his breath on my ear, his other hand cupped my chin for a moment to check if my mouth was over the surface of the water and I pushed back weakly. I coughed hard, the wound started to burn.

"Hold on, everything is going to be ok," he reassured me.

"I'm a big fan of night swimming, such a magical experience," I said between breaths.

"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?"

"They were about to shut me up for good back there; you missed your chance."

"...you are impossible."

A simple thank you would have sufficed; that I knew. And I should be grateful to him for saving me...but was I? Honestly I found it funny. There was no way I'd jump in the water on my own and even after putting up a fight there was no way to beat so many people without support, thus ending it all there seemed appropriate for a moment. I'd die alone, in a pool of my own blood, in a place anyone hardly visits. Maybe Lucio would look for me after a day or two; he'd probably be the only one to grieve anyway. The world would not miss a scum like me, no one would really care...yet there he was, saving a stranger he could not stand; I should live on knowing that someone cared enough to save such a pathetic person.

"Almost there."

My feet dragged on the wet sand as he supported my weight. Finally out of the water, I was never more grateful for touching ground. He laid me down, too busy making me comfortable, placing a rock under my head and checking the bleeding. My breath had become harder, my vision was a bit blurry, but I could still see the beautiful stars, pinned on the satin sky; why did it have to be so beautiful anyway on a night like this? It could be the day I died! But no one would like to die after witnessing this, it felt like the stars were mocking me.

G said something but I could not focus, not until I felt his touch on my rib, his fingers unbuttoning the bottom of my waistcoat quickly and then the sound of my shirt ripping. Indescribable panic consumed me, one that sent a rush of power down my hands. I grabbed his, breathing heavily and removed them, stopping his further actions. He looked at me surprised, surely he was not expecting I'd have that much power left.

"No..." I breathed.

"I can't and should not remove the knife, but I have to apply pressure. It doesn't seem to be too deep, so-"

"Just not the shirt."

"Is your shirt that important right now?"

"Not-the-shirt!" I coughed.

"…ok. Just let me wrap it though. I'll get you to a doctor to treat it."

"Doctor Barone…I'll only see Doctor Barone…."

"How come you are so picky at a time like this?"

"Get me...to my home then."

"You'll die before you reach your home, it's too far away."

"Then...Dr. Barone...it is."

"I'll get you to the first doctor I'll find- WHAT THE HELL?" his hand grabbed mine before I pushed the knife further, he tossed my hand aside angrily and it fell limp on the ground.

"Ba...rone..."

"If you have to go that far, I'll get you to the damn Dr. Barone, ok? Just let me wrap the bloody wound."

"Promise."

"I promise," he said while applying pressure and wrapping it. "Just hold on, ok?"

I could hear a ripping sound again and again and the feeling of pieces of cloth wrapping around my skin; he did not stop until the bleeding was somewhat dampened. He left a few minutes later. The place became so quiet. I could not assess the situation well. What was going to happen? Did he have to listen to what I was saying? Where had he gone? I could barely keep my eyes open. But he did come back and he lifted me up with ease. With my head resting on his chest, I could hear his heart beating fast as he anxiously called for someone. Soon we were on a carriage.

"Don't close your eyes."

"Demanding, aren't we?"

"Like you are one to talk! Just don't close your damn eyes, I don't know what the hell I should do if you do."

"I'm doing my best here."

"Hey, Alfieri, you..."

"Hmmm?"

My coughing had returned, sending shocks of pain down the wound, it was impossible to keep a poker face at that point. His fingers pushed back my hair and held down my forehead.

"No, nothing, never mind…" his voice became softer, I squeezed my eyes to contain the pain, thus I could not see his face.

When we finally reached Barone's , my legs had given up, I could not stand even though I insisted that I did not want him to carry me. With my hand wrapped around his shoulder, he was supporting my whole weight, knocking hard on the wooden door. It took a few minutes before Barone would answer, looking worried and bleary. He looked at us, mouth agape, surely not a scene he was expecting to witness. His eyes fell on the knife and he let a surprised sound. He invited us in, asking G to explain the situation while he was preparing his tools. What was to explain anyway? The situation was pretty obvious. Clattering, running water, and my back placed on a hard bed, I could see a light right over my head but I could only make figures out...my hearing was the sharpest it had ever been though.

"Hold Mr. Alfieri down for a moment," the doctor instructed before giving me a shot.

"Alone..." I said weakly.

"Don't worry," the doctor whispered in my ear. "Trust me, young sir."

My mind went blank after that; when I next opened my eyes I was in an unfamiliar room. My lips were wet but my mouth was completely dry. It took me a few seconds to focus and recall everything. My hand moved to my abdomen, softly touching the now wrapped wound; it seemed I had escaped death just fine. Something moved to my side, I slightly lifted my head only to take a glimpse of his red hair. He was sleeping soundly, sitting on a chair next to the bed, using his arms as his pillow.

He must have been exhausted. He was such a simpleton, I thought, going that far for someone he barely new. Were all the Vongola like this? The tips of my fingers touched his hair, they were a bit dry from the salt water. The lower part of his shirt was ripped to pieces, exposing parts of his skin. He didn't even bother to change.

"Such a fool..."

My hand crawled up to his head and stayed there. Feeling his breathing, my whole body relaxed, my breath started matching his. A smile forced its way to my lips no matter how much I'd tried to suppress it; ridiculous. Maybe I was much more of a fool, unable to sort out those confusing feelings of mine, that innocent touch which felt more intimate than it should. I did not believe in fate, but I mused on what kind of power brought this man into my life and why I could not keep my eyes off him. His presence was so galling and so soothing at the same time. Experiencing that relaxing atmosphere I dozed off, unable to remember how long it had been since I had last fallen asleep so peacefully.

When I woke up again, I could not estimate for how long I was asleep. Hours definitely, maybe even a day; all I knew was that it was daytime again, I could see the light behind the thick curtains. My whole body was sore, used, bloody bandages were snarled up on the table, the doctor must have changed them already. My hand was laying on the bed; I raised my empty palm which was last touching his head. I had fallen asleep still touching him; it must have been awkward when he woke up. An act of gratitude, could it be explained like that? I didn't find it all that convincing myself. But it wasn't like I was in my right mind either. Still, looking for him was the first thing I did. Was he ok? I didn't have the chance to ask: familiar voices were heard approaching my room, the pain forcing me to give up on standing.

"All I'm saying is that you didn't have to be so rude."

Lucio's voice.

"We do owe him boss's life."

"If you had accompanied him, we wouldn't owe this man anything."

Lucio and Vito; they had been notified about the incident already. Of course they would have. It must have been the first thing Barone did after treating my wounds, so I was not that surprised.

"The event was unfortunate, but we have to let the man breath. It's not like it was the first time he took a stroll on his own. But that doesn't mean you had to act like that."

"He is still an outsider," Vito insisted. "I thanked him properly, so he had no other reason to linger."

"Well, if I were him, I'd too like to ascertain if the person I saved was-" the door opened, Lucio's eyes met mine right away, his eyes widen in surprise. "Andrea, you are awake!"

He rushed in, taking my hand in his and knelt next to the bed thanking God for everything, though he should be thanking Dr. Barone first. Vito appeared on the doorway, looking even more concerned; it was not like him to lose his calm, did they consider me done for when they heard the news? Well, he'd also had to deal with my father and deliver the news meanwhile, not the greatest experience. And what were they talking about? An outsider. Was it about G.?

"The Vongola?"

"Oh..." Lucio averted his eyes.

"I have to thank him."

"I sent him away," Vito stood firmly, eyebrows furrowed.

"You..."

"Stay down," Lucio prevented me from standing up.

"I thanked him properly in your stead, but I saw no reason for him to stay."

"It's not the same."

"I saw no reason for you two to hang out together in the first place," he continued.

"Oh, should I report everything I do to you now?" I looked away.

"Is this the right time and place to discuss this?" Lucio interjected.

"It is," Vito insisted. "I advised against handling Ricci that way and accepting Vongola's invitation, look how things ended."

"I wonder if it was truly orchestrated by Ricci himself."

"What do you mean?"

"The way seemed too amateurish and not in line with his style."

"The result is the same though," Vito retaliated and gave me a knowing look. "Your father is not pleased…"

"Well, my father is not here; I guess me still being alive was not pleasant enough."

"That's not what..." he bit his lip.

"Andrea, you should rest, we can talk about this another time," Lucio insisted.

"I owe that man my life. Do you really think that you thanking him was enough?"

"I did what I decided to be right. He should not get involved into the family's affairs any further."

"Well, maybe I should ge the judge of that next time," I argued, but all fight left me in seconds. "Just leave me alone..."

"As you wish," he said backing away but stopped hesitantly by the door. "...I'm glad you are ok."

He left the room without a response. Lucio sighed deeply, looking honestly relieved and sat on the chair beside me.

"He is a difficult man and I don't agree with him, but I do believe he did what he did considering your best interests," Lucio defended him reluctantly.

"You don't have to tell me," I adjusted my position. "But having him continuously doubting me and monitoring my actions is tiring."

"Just rest for now. I'll tell the others you woke up, they were worried. Lorenza said she'll look into the incident."

"That'd be the best course of action."

"Andrea… Just be a bit more careful from now on. I don't want to lose my childhood friend over something like this," he stood up. "We'll transport you home in a couple of days, Barone said it's better to stay here for the time being so he can attend to your wound easier."

"...Lucio."

"Yes?"

"Was he ok?"

"Hm? Giotto's man, you mean?" He waved me away. "He looked fine, unlike his clothes. I lent him my undershirt. Hmm…" He stroke his chin, deep in thought. "It was troubling that he didn't argue with Vito more though, I thought he'd put up more of a fight. Maybe he was exhausted. He asked us to let him know if you woke up," he rubbed his chin and then smiled. "I like him, he seems like a good man. Maybe we should invite him for drinks when you get better."

"He is, isn't he?"

"Well, I should go now. Despite what he said, Vito will handle everything so relax for now and focus on your recovery."

"I will, thank you."

That conversation was a hard reality check. There was no room for idle concerns and having the time to explore those confusing emotions. We had to deal with Ricci and then my father; plus, the Vongola would know details about an incident we'd try to cover up, this was not an ideal situation. Doctor Barone entered the room silently, clearly disturbed by the situation, but he had chosen to stay out of the conversation. Still, he must have had filled them in earlier. He drew the curtains and opened the windows slightly to let fresh air in, proceeding to dispose of the used bandages. So they had interrupted him the moment he had finished changing them, was G. in the house until then?

He swept his tools in deep thought, taking a few peeks at me, his moves where mechanical, a bit stressed. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something then clenched his chin, he looked a bit angry, yet he was faltering. Finally, he threw his tools in the sink and took a seat, he looked exhausted, he hanged his shoulders and took a big breath before looking at me in the eyes with a serious expression. His dark hair had turned gray with years, but he was still hale for his age, he didn't look like a man in his fifties.

"Andrea, I've known you since you were an infant..."

"Yeah, father likes long-lasting partnerships."

"I know I'm the last person who has the right to ask you this, but for how long do you think you can keep this up? Another incident like that and-"

"I don't know what you mean, doctor. It was an unfortunate event…thank you for your hard work, I owe you my life," my nails scratched the surface of the bed.

"...I was young and penniless back then," he said apologetically. "I didn't think twice. You are a young woma-"

"You delivered a young baby boy in perfect health. That's what the papers say. I'm now a healthy young man, I just let my guard down, I'll make sure it won't happen again."

"Do you really feel this way?"

"What is it, doctor? You get a generous monthly pay, you have a nice house, your name is well known around town…you should be satisfied."

"I am..." he stuttered.

"Then are you looking for atonement? Aren't you too young to think your time is near?"

"It's not like that…" he stopped mid-sentence and lowered his guilty gaze. "Maybe it is. But…"

"Doctor. Every time I screw up someone's life, do you feel it's your fault? Maybe if I didn't agree to falsify everything that night, this kid could have a better life…" he pursed his lips. "If that's what you think, then you should stop."

"I..."

"Even if it weren't you, that man would have found someone else. Because, ultimately, people love money…and the result would have been the same. You made your choice so you should live with it. Or are you saying my whole life can be summed up as a mistake of your past that you could fix so half-heartily?"  
"No, but-"

"Now please, get out before I lose my patience."

"...Alright. But if…if you chance your mind..."

"Get out!"

Biting his lower lip, he stood up and balled his fists.

His remorseful face was the last thing I wanted to see. Seeing my aggravated expression, he left the room without saying anything else, but the words he had spoken were enough to incur my anger. I grabbed the first thing I saw next to me, an empty, metal basin and threw it towards the door. Futilely, there was not enough power behind that throw to even hit the door, it fell on the floor and rolled on the ground. Clenching my teeth, I covered my eyes with my left arm. Anger was the only emotion I could clearly distinct, with years it had become my default nature. Usually under control; it would occasionally manifest in angry fits and every time I'd blame myself for that.

The soothing moment I had experienced was gone, I was back to my usual self and more disappointed with me than ever. Maybe because since I woke up, I could not erase that thought; I was expecting him to be by my side. But there was no reason to expect something like that. He had no obligation to and I had no reason to feel than way. Still, I wanted to see him...


	5. Noone ever tells you

Hello again! It took me a while to finish this one, since I was editing some parts again and again, but it's finally done and I'm kinda proud I did not give up midway! I hope you will enjoy it.  
As always, a huuuge thank you to **FallenAngelItachi** for taking the time to beta this story and for her encouranging words.

* * *

**Chapter 5**  
**~Noone Ever Tells you~**

It was usually rainy during November. I loved the smell of wet soil, the feeling of the rain as the water soaked my clothes; the sound of droplets hitting the ground, blocking every other sound around me when I closed my eyes… and then watching them roll over the leaves when it stopped. It almost felt like a blessing.

But not that day; that day, all I could do was watch the drops race down my window while I was stuck in bed, spacing out. They did not allow me to move around, thus had begun a dull circle of waking up, being forced to eat, changing my bandages and laying down again, waiting for the next day to come. And yet, they had covered up the whole incident; the reputation of the family took top priority, after all.

My father's eyes, when they transported me home during night, conveyed everything I expected: he didn't have to speak a single word, it was written all over his face. Don't bring me any more troubles, kid, you are a disgrace; I could hear his voice in my mind, even though he never said it. His empty glare, his clenched fists... there was no sign of affection in his posture or his eyes.

He never visited after that, not that I was expecting him to. Lucio on the other hand visited almost every day; Fabio visited a couple of times, Lorenza sent a get-well present along with a hand-written letter about the info she had gathered...and then there was Vito. He said he had to keep me updated about work at first, but he was around more than enough after a few days, even doing paperwork in my room while I was reading on my bed to pass the time, passing me a few papers that had to be signed from time to time, yet keeping the conversation to a minimum. I had trouble trying to sleep and he was not making it easier by being there most of the time; his presence was unsettling as I was not used to have other people staying in my room, Lorena being the exception. Just like a watch dog, he'd sit on the chair, arms crossed, watching me silently.

"You should eat your meal properly," he commented once, eyeing the half-finished meal Lorena had prepared.

"I hardly move these days, so it's not like I have to eat that much," my stubborn reply did not faze him, he was the one who was insisting the most that I should not leave the house after all.

Annoyed by his stone-cold expression, my attention returned to the foggy window.

This whole incident had turned out to be a huge hustle. And though rumors spread initially, no one had confirmed anything, thus they died out soon. The Vongola did not get involved, and the Riccis avoided any blatant provocations the following days.

Still sour about my situation, I made myself more comfortable on my bed; the pain was not as acute as it was at first, but it still hurt when I moved. It had been more than three weeks since they had me placed here, it was suffocating not being able to get out. Fearing an infection, they forbade me from moving, doing any tasks that would tire me or leaving the house, the only exception being letting me take a short stroll in the yard twice with Lucio accompanying me and taking me for a brief ride down town once, saying I should show my face to help the rumors die out completely. At least, although Dr. Barone was visiting once a day at first to check the wound while Lorena was in charge of changing the bandages, his visits had become less frequent after the first two weeks, much to my delight.

"There are a few things I have to take care of..." Vito cut the silence, checking his clock. "Thus, I have to go."

His eyes slid towards the half opened door, the small figure peeking through it disappeared behind it in an awkward manner, making the wooden floor screech. The man shrugged, heaving a small sigh before standing up, looking defeated. I couldn't help but hide a chuckle seeing him look a bit hurt by the kid's rejection. Timid as he was, Felice avoided him every time they run into each other, not even giving him the chance to gain his trust, but seeing Vito caring about a kid's attitude towards him was the most surprising aspect of their relationship. Lucio was definitely the culprit there, he had described Vito more than once as a scary person in front of the kids and the little one always took his words to heart.

"It seems you are feeling better..."

Commenting on my obvious amusement, he gazed at me with a kind smile. Not knowing what to make of his unusual behavior, my mind recalled the words I had said to him back in Barone's house; my nails scratched the sheets, cringing at my own conduct and after averting my eyes for a moment, I forced a smile. Looking a bit surprised by my reaction, his hand hovered reluctantly over my head for a moment and eventually rested on my shoulder, patting it once awkwardly.

"Take care..."

Turning on his heels, he walked away in an uncomfortable silence after I nodded him goodbye, his steps rhythmical as always, his shoulders a bit slumped. His workload had increased after the incident but he did not complain even once; no matter how much of a workaholic he was, that much work had to drain his energy. Not that Vito ever looked energetic, but it was evident that he was more tired than usual, maybe I should have noticed that sooner. After glancing back one more time, he finally left the room without another word. Something felt off about him since the day of the accident; I attributed that to his nature, assuming that he probably considered everything that had transpired his fault. My father's right hand man, my counselor, a high positioned subordinate; if word got out he'd be considered a failure for not predicting the outcome and not being there to protect his boss, no matter how irrational that was.

Sighing, while reaching my own conclusion about his behavior without even asking, I repositioned my body on my bed. It seemed that no matter how much I moved to make my self more comfortable I could not manage to find a satisfying position as I was getting more and more restless every day.

I wanted to escape that room. My eyes caught Felice's little figure dithering outside the half-closed door, Vito had left it open for him. He'd always hesitate to knock or enter when he was not accompanied by his siblings, but he would not leave easily after entering, he had even cried the first time when they removed him from the room in order to let me rest.

"Ahh…so bored..."

A fake deep sigh and an exaggerated tone used in the words spoken were enough to make the little child twitch. Gullible as he was, it was not hard to picture his concerned face while I was feigning that I could no reach my glass of water. It took three or four false failed attempts before he finally rushed into the room, flushed and anxious about my inability to complete the simple task. He tossed the book he was carrying on the chair Vito was resting on a few minutes ago and reached for the jug sitting on the table, carefully pouring water into my half-empty glass before offering it to me, his glance lowered, his cheeks still red.

"Ah, Felice..." putting on a surprised face, I accepted the glass. "Just as I needed help; you are such a dependable guy. Thank you."

My other hand reached for his head and I shuffled his hair roughly. He looked content, yet a little bashful by the praise he got and let a small chuckle when I pulled him towards the bed, not even trying to resist. His small hand grabbed the mattress and he rested his head on it, accepting the petting on his head with a big smile. From experience, I knew that forcing him to join someone would make him run away, but he'd rush into a situation if you gave him a choice to be helpful. A difficult kid, they said, but honestly he was so easy to read and more innocent than anyone. Hanging by the edge of the bed, his brown, almond-shaped eyes looked up at me expectantly.

"Would you like to keep me company?"

It was just what he needed to listen.

Nodding frantically, he stood up, rushing to pick up the book he had tossed aside a few moments ago, not hiding his enthusiasm. He climbed on the bed clumsily and extended his hands, handing me the book eagerly. The moment I examined the cover, I almost rued inviting him to stay. I was really hoping he would not bring up that book again. I've read it many times as a child to the point I'd memorized whole parts from it, nevertheless I resented every page of it. It had become a locked-away memory until Felice gained access to my old books with my own permission and brought it to me so we could read it together a while before that day. My fingers ran on the faded title and its worn down corners. I glared at the picture of the wooden puppet with a yellow pointy hat as if I was glaring at an old enemy. As a kid, I found his appearance grotesque and there he was again, posing on the cover with confidence like no other; a strange reflection of myself, I thought.

"Are you sure you want to read this one again? You were scared last time."

"This one is fine," he finally spoke with his soft voice, looking determined.  
"I-I see..."

Grudging, I turned to the first page. The familiar words flowed on the pages as I carried on reading, feeling Felice breathing with excitement and flinching every time a scene scared him. In the end, engrossed with the narrating, I stopped being conscious of him for a while until the end of chapter fifteen. The words stopped coming out as though they were suffocating me, my thump scratched the tip of the page. It was where it should have originally ended. No second chances, no maidens with azure hair, no turning into a human, an ending fit for a rascal. The knot I felt in my throat became tighter, as if someone had put a noose around my own neck. I rubbed the nape of my neck, just to feel my own sweat drenching my hair.

Felice, sensing my hesitation, looked up quizzically, I knew his favorite part was coming, but still I closed the book, offering him a smile. He frowned in disappointment before offering a small smile back as I ruffled his blond hair again. Of course he'd never complain. More childish than a child, I denied to continue, tapping my fingers lightly on my throat to signify that it felt shore as an excuse. Maybe I should not have started reading it from the start. How should I explain it to him? What would be a proper excuse for a child? As I continued to pet his head, he roosted on the bed, yawning sleepily.

"Sorry Felice, uncle is a bit tired. Let's continue another time."

Luckily, my own nose did not grow and Felice simply nodded under my touch; soon he was breathing heavily next to me. I closed my eyes for a moment, focusing on the relaxing sound of the rain. Had I died that night, it'd be a fitting ending for a rascal, that's what I had thought while being carried to the doctor that day, still there I was, comfortable on my bed, alive and kicking and selfish as always, saved by the man with the crimson hair whose image would not leave my mind. I had convinced my self that it was due to my sense of obligation. It was easy lying to everyone after all, even to myself. I had to thank him and get over with it, get rid of thoughts of him... The sooner it would be done, the better.

As the night bled into morning, I could not get much sleep. Felice breathing next to me had a calming effect though, I could at least get rid of unnecessary thoughts while I was watching him sleep. Lorena greeted us first thing in the morning, carrying a plate of food per usual and put her hands on her hips in disapproval, seeing the little child sleeping next to me. Despite me putting a finger to my lips signaling her not to wake him up, she carried on with her morning routine mumbling to herself.

"You didn't finish your dinner again," she complained.  
"You always put way too much food on my plate."  
"Young people have to eat to stay strong. You should be thankful war has ended and we can enjoy as much," she picked up the plate with my half-finished dinner and put a clean glass next to me. "You have to wake him up soon, we have to change your bandages."

"I know. I'll wake him up when I finish my breakfast."

"You never finish your breakfast, but anyway," she left, throwing her hands up in the air, the ultimate sign of resignation.

I took a big breath, tapping the bridge of my nose with my index finger. It hadn't even been a day since she had made a scene about me not liking her food and she brought it up again. She didn't even come to clean it up, true to her threat, which was so like her. My appetite was not that great but admittedly she wasn't making it any easier with the amount of food she was plating. Gulping down a glass of water, I glanced at the book I had placed on the table the night before and turned the cover upside down.

Drinking water first thing in the morning always made me feel refreshed; the morning hadn't started out great, though I was used to Lorena's grumbling. I rolled the empty glass between my fingers inattentively when I heard someone whistling by the door. Lucio's grinning face popped behind it and he entered without asking permission. With his hands still in his pockets, he threw himself on the chair saying good-morning.

"Wow, aunt looked furious," he closed the door behind him.  
"I was not expecting you so early in the morning," I ignored his comment.

"And here I rushed to my boss's side, thinking he'd might feel lonely," he shrugged nonchalantly. "But I see you have good company- Oh, is this frittata I'm seeing on your plate?"  
"Eeeh… Yeah," I answered recognizing his gluttonous stare. "You can grab a bite if you want."  
"Really? Thank you, you are the best!"

He helped himself without even a shred of hesitation in his movements, taking the biggest slice for himself. The bliss on his face when he took his first bite made me chuckle under my breath. Aunt Lorena would surely be happier serving under someone with an appetite as big as his, unlike the ungrateful me, though she usually ended up scolding him from getting his hands on food she had not yet served when he was having a meal in our house.

"So, about what I asked you to do..."

My words made him slow his munching for a moment, his shoulders tensed and he gulped down the lump of food in his mouth. Slowly putting his slice back in the plate, he run his tongue over his teeth looking skeptical as he was scratching his light beard. His eyes wondered towards Felice who was still sleeping soundly and then back at me. We looked at each other straight in the eye for a few seconds, his mouth slightly opened as if he was searching for the right words; his shoulders finally slumped, his expression looked troubled.

"Andrea, are you sure I have to do this behind Vito's back? He'll find out in the end anyway."  
"Since when do I have to ask for his permission?" my eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.  
"You don't need his permission, but maybe you should inform him about it. I know where you are coming from, but it may cause trouble later and you are not in your best condition…"

"I don't want him monitoring my every move," I insisted.

"Yeah, but..." he paused and scratched his head anxiously. "Well, I could not get in contact with him, he is out of town at the moment."

"Oh…"  
"However, I met that gorgeous woman we were introduced to last time."  
"Elena?"  
"Yes, that one! She greeted me kindly and didn't seem to be aware of the, you know..." he gestured at my wound. "...but I had trouble avoiding her questions."  
"Somehow, it doesn't surprise me."  
"But!" he reached under his jacket smiling. "I got you an invitation."  
"An invitation?"  
"She asked me if you'd like to visit and chat with her over lunch."  
"Socialites sure like to give out written invitations..."

I examined the paper.

Elena's cursive handwriting was spreading on it, the letters slanting a little bit to the right on the wrinkled paper. Lucio didn't bother to be careful with it. Keeping it short and formal, she was inviting me to her house the following week to stay over and join them for dinner. My eyes stopped at her signature. What a bothersome woman, I thought; her confident invitation let off a sense that I could not deny it. Even if she did not know the details, she had probably connected the dots.

"She said she'll make sure he'll be there."  
"Let her know that I accept her invitation."  
"Are you sure about that? It's an official invitation, you know."  
"I'm aware of that"  
"What about your wound?"  
"I'll be fine, Lucio…"  
"No point trying to change your mind,..." he exhaled deeply. "And... I'd also like to thank the one who saved my life personally if I were you, but…"  
"But?"  
"No, never mind..." he stuffed his mouth with the half-eaten piece of frittata, not finishing his words when Lorena entered the room again.

Eyes wide, she smacked his head making him choke.

"What the hell do you think you are eating? It's not for you!"  
"Hey, keep your voice down, you hag," he covered his head.  
"Ah, you woke him up..." I gestured at Felice who rubbed his eyes, blinking sheepishly.

"Who are you calling a hag, you gluttonous pig? You are worse than your father when it comes to food. And you," she turned to me again. "just eat your breakfast for Christ's sake."  
"Shouldn't you be grateful he enjoys your cooking this much?"

Lucio nodded in agreement and folded his hands.

"Don't try to change the subject! I'd smack you too if you weren't wounded. I can't deal with you two!" she threw her hands in the air again.

She was screaming the same thing at us one week later, the moment she realized Lucio had helped me sneak out of my room. Running after his car, she waved her kitchen towel threateningly. Unable to run in her long skirt, she gave up soon after, putting her hands on her hips in dismay. I turned to Lucio who was munching on the apple pie he had purloined earlier from the kitchen's window while he was driving and cupped my face with my right hand to hold back a laugh recalling her furious face when she saw us running away and the threats she had spewed at us; he really could not help his hunger.

"What the hell, man. Did you really have to steal the whole tin?"

"You made me run errands since early in the morning, I didn't have breakfast and it's almost noon!" he complained.

"Yes, but still; where the hell did you find forks?"

"I pocketed them when I greeted her this morning."

"You had the whole thing planned?"

"A man has to eat," he dug the fork in the pie with a serious expression and took a bite. With the fork still in his mouth he extended the other one to me . "Wan' s'me?"

"No!"

Perplexed, we stared at each other; I could not understand his bottomless stomach and he could not get my refusal to eat. Thinking back, when we were kids he'd always do things for me because I was bribing him using the food I didn't want and he sure loved Lorena's cooking. He held the fork up using his teeth until it touched his nose and grinned triumphantly before he turns his attention to the road again. I burst out laughing, just imagining Lorena's exasperation and how she'd mumble to herself all day about how troublesome we were even though we were supposed to act like adults at out age. We both knew we'd get an earful when she'd see us again. Lucio's broad shoulder's trembled as he cackled. It had been a while since we were alone, away from my house and out of business, so we spent the rest of the way sharing old stories.

On sight of the appointed building, I took a deep breath. Though I had accepted the invitation I was not exactly prepared or excited about meeting everyone, I'd rather keep it short and meet in a more neutral meeting place. Lucio parked the car in front of it. It was bigger than the one we had visited last time, it made you wonder how many rooms it had and how many people they could fit in there . Truth be told, I had not entered such a building before, old and elegant like it had jumped out of a book, it was unlike the extravagant buildings our kind of people choose to build in order to show off their riches. My friend bumped his fist on my shoulder encouragingly, seeing my hesitation, and I looked at the back seats where there were a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates he had bought upon my orders.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A bit listless, I'd say."

I cracked my neck and closed my eyes for an instant, trying to remind my self that I had gone there for a specific purpose. My body felt stiff, but I had to look like I was at my best condition, so I stretched my body, took a deep breath again and left the car picking up the gifts we've brought. Not the most original choice, but they met the standards as gift of common courtesy. My whole body tensed, I had to prepare myself for what would follow; answering questions about my sudden incline to visit would be a pain. My eyes blinked slowly, it was like a switch shifted inside me, my face muscles relaxed, a smile was plastered on my face. I picked up the bouquet and straightened out my suit.

"So, how do I look?"

"Like a modern Casanova," he laughed.

It's not like I was expecting a serious answer, of course my fake, friendly persona would not work on him, we both knew that, but it did work on many occasions. My eyes scanned the building and stopped at the wooden door; if I could I'd like to avoid going through this. Just at the idea of having to use a facade I was already exhausted, yet I could not ignore my raising pulse. Surprised by the light sense of anticipation, I placed a hand over my chest and took a hesitant step. While I was still considering my decision, Lucio's hand rested on my back, after tapping it once, twice, three times, and pushed me slightly forward...before bypassing me and knocking on the door. Soon after a young girl around our age, with brown hair and big green eyes opened the door. A bit flushed, she showed us inside after we handed her our invitation, leading us to the living room, where she announced our presence.

Elena stood up from the sofa, a warm welcoming smile on her face. Following her, Asari, placed the book he was holding on the coffee table and smiled kindly, slightly bowing. We looked around stunned by the extravagant decoration. The high arched windows let the natural sunlight flood the room, thick Persian carpets covered the perfectly-polished wooden floors, you almost felt ashamed you had to step on them. One could descry the expensive red colored furniture even before entering the room. A bit intimidated by the pompous adornment, I put on my most charming smile and bowed my head slightly; be cautious, I reminded my self, recalling our last conversation.

"Welcome, Andrea, it's been a while," she opened her arms and patted my back in a brief hug before squeezing my arms warmly. "I'm so glad you decided to accept my invitation."

"Thanks for inviting me, Elena" despite feeling uncomfortable by the gesture and the first name basis, I mimicked her friendliness and patted her shoulder. "These are for you you."  
"Chocolates! I love them!" Being the perfect hostess, her smile was warm and honest; then she turned to the one escorting me. "Lucio, it's nice seeing you again," she shook his hand and smelled the flowers. "Irises… They are so beautiful. Let me put them in a vase!"

"Nice to meet you again," Asari, reserved on the contrast, just extended his hand while she rushed in another room excited and returned with one at hand.

"Please, sit," she gestured to the sofa.

Continuing with her joyous tone, Elena set the mood quickly, like the experienced hostess she was, rapidly asking questions and bringing up old stories. It was the kind of conversation Lucio loved, so it was no surprise he could keep up with her. Asari on the other hand felt a bit lost, but kept smiling kindly while trying to be part of it. As for me, my plastered smile had started to fade after a while. Feeling iffy about the situation, my gaze drifted to the big old cuckoo clock at the back of the room.

What was the point going there if the one I was supposed to meet was not even present? My eyes glued to the second hand; time was passing so slowly, we had not been there for even an hour but it was like several hours had passed. Their voices in the background felt like unnecessary noise, the clock's ticking on the other hand was relaxing; my compulsion to certain, repetitive, rhythmical sounds was growing by the day without me realizing it.

The clock striking twelve snapped me out of my thoughts, returning me to reality. I turned my attention back to the others only to notice Elena's scrutiny. Her eyes softened, she placed her cup back on her plate and left it on the table, offering me a knowing smile which only grew the irritation inside me. Before I could say anything, she slowly stood up, cutting Lucio's excited narration about a brawl he had a couple of years ago with a Spanish man, exaggerating the facts by adding dramatic details here and there to make the story sound more interesting than it actually was.

"Oh, look at the time! Would you like me to show you your room?" her eyes staring right into mine.  
"Sure."

Unsure about her sudden suggestion, I decided to follow her than listen to the same old story for a millionth time. Lucio didn't seem interested or discouraged by our withdrawal as he continued with his story, ignoring Asari's desperate glare. Lucio's extrovert personality was extraordinary, he fitted in instantly, to the point of getting annoying. It was strange really how he could feel so comfortable even around people he barely knew. I kind of envied that, though I never admitted it in front of him, maybe I should have. Leaving the poor man behind, victim to Lucio's boasting, I silently followed on Elena's heels upstairs; her blond hair cascading down her slim shoulders waving under her bouncing steps, even her back was beautiful. She looked back over her shoulders with a playful smile, almost like she had read my thoughts and let a small giggle.

"Here we are," she opened the door to the guest room wide.

She entered first, beckoning me to follow, and waked towards the windows, pulling the curtains to let light into the room. Bewildered by her refreshing personality and her mysterious smiles, I followed warily. My gut was telling me to be careful with my words around her, however I could not help but feel drawn to her as a person. The moment I entered I was greeted by a double bed with clean, silky sheets, a wide wardrobe and an empty basin on the bedside table. Unlike the living room, it had no character, it was what you would expect from a guestroom, and yet, next to the window, a lone vase with a single, fresh, yellow flower in it was decorating the round table. Drawn to the flower and its strong and rich fragrance I approached the window. The tips of my fingers slowly touched its soft petals curiously; I had not seen that flower before.

"Do you like it?" a proud smile on her face, she walked towards me and stood just a few inches away.

"First time seeing it..."

"Isn't it beautiful? Wild ones bloom during spring. It's called daffodil or narcissus. "

Surprised, I pulled my hand slightly back; eyes widened, I glanced at her yet her smile would not leave her lips. She cocked her head to the side, lacing her hands behind her back merrily, her eyes sincere, she was expecting an answer. My eyes rolled back to the yellow flower. Snorting I took it into my hand and shrugged forcing a wide smile, making it seem as natural as I could. My thumb rubbed against its petals.

"Are you aware of its meaning?" she raised an eyebrow.

Was it her way to address vanity? Did she make that choice consciously as a silent taunt towards me? How should I react? If it had no particular meaning, why would she ask me that? Many questions run through my mind; letting my emotions show even for a moment was a mistake on my part.

"The man who fell in love with his own reflection, right? …He sure turned into a beautiful flower though."  
"Oh..." she chuckled. "Many link it with that myth, but there is no evidence it was named after it. The myth refers to one's fixation to himself..." she tapped a finger on her lips and stood silent for a few seconds. "In the language of flowers, however, daffodils have a completely different meaning."

"What kind of meaning?" I titled my head, now I was the one waiting for an answer.

"Hm…" she cupped her chin and nibbled her lower lip. "Since you interpret it the wrong way, I don't feel like answering. As revenge, I won't answer you till next time."

She grinned brightly. Her words confident. It felt like she was goading me to get the answer she wanted.

"Next time?" my eyes slid towards the garden...and that's when my lips went instantly dry; but her eyes on me were sharp. "I might have found the meaning on my own until then."

"I don't mind, since you are willing to meet again."

"Well… It's a small town, it's not like I'm promising anything..." I tried to dismiss her comment right away.

"That's enough for me."

There it was again. Had it become a habit of mine? Recognizing his figure right away, my whole body feeling numb at his sight, looking fixedly at his red hair. My throat joined my lips and felt parched.

"I heard you were indisposed lately," her clear voice cut the silence. "Fresh air do wonders when you are feeling under the weather. How about talking a stroll in the garden?"

"There-"

"I'll join you after I show Lucio his room," she strode to the exit. " I'd like to show you my greenhouse, it's my pride."

How much did she know? Probably not much, but presumably enough to guess that me feeling indisposed was a poorly fabricated lie. I'd have probably guessed as much if I were her too, but giving me an excuse to have time alone with him for no specific reason and nothing to gain from that was troubling. Was it an attempt to be polite or her way to make me feel obliged to her, I could not tell. Had I let it show on my face? Was I too obvious? Don't think, I told myself, finding my way to the garden. I had grown impatient and yet there I was, getting conscious of my appearance, fixing my tie and combing my hair with my fingers, looking for the right words to greet him.

Foolishly, undeniably, ridiculously out of character, walking eagerly towards him the moment I spotted him standing under the tree...only to stop soon after, under the throbbing sound of my heart, my mouth agape.

Thrown into confusion, my eyes scanned the area randomly, like they searching for my lost sense of direction, feeling exposed for no reason, my breathing became faster. It was like all my senses were sharpened for a moment, my eyes glued on the scene, the familiar smell of wet grass mixed with the sweet fragrance of the planted flowers scratching my nose, his voice ringing in my ears, my nails pressed in my palm, my mouth dry. I recognized the girl he was ogling immediately. She was the same brunette he was talking with that night, about a month ago. His cheeks flushed, he scratched his cheek looking embarrassed. Standing right next to him, she was speaking, narrating some story, oh so cheerful, cheeks tinted red. Deja vu.

What was shocking about it, though? I shook my head and wore my smug expression. Right. Wasn't it the perfect excuse? I should go tease him, make a few unnecessary comments even. It'd be easy to make fun of him. Maybe flirt a bit. Make him mad. Hog all the attention, perhaps argue a bit. It was normal. That's how it was supposed to be. I just had to play my part, get over with it, go back home. It should be that simple. Thus I took a step forward. It should be that simple and yet…

"Wretched boy!"

My own voice lamented into my head. Rascal. Imp. Disgrace. My feet sunk into the wet ground. My hand fell limp to my side, my fingers twitched. Not a very thankful way to treat him. Such an ungrateful boy really...my eyes looked at it aimlessly, it was like someone had let go of the invisible strings guiding me. Silky brown hair, blue eyes, fair skin and cheery lips, a beautiful woman. What's a marionette against a porcelain doll, if not an ugly piece of wood I wondered. My pupils followed her every movement, the way she cutely covered her smile, her fingers playfully smacking his shoulder. I studied my fingertips like it was my first time seeing them, a little rough, the same small scar on my right thumb since I was a kid, the same hands I've lived with the past eighteen years, still, I felt embarrassed by them.

My breath became steadier by each second, I dragged my feet back, leaving a trail stamped on grass behind and turned my back on them, realizing that they were trembling. What was I hoping for exactly? What I was comparing myself to? Ridiculous. I was not even part of that play. My legs were not obeying me. I should not be there, smart people had to know their place. I had no need of those fuggy emotions. I bit my lower lip hard, my knuckles cracking.

"Maybe I do feel a bit under the weather after all..."

All things considered, there was no reasonable explanation for getting worked up over something like that, I could only scoff at myself. Things had to make sense, always. When emotions were applied before logic, the outcome was never good. I turned on my heels, watching my breath taking shape in the air and put my hands into my pockets. Feeling the cold air on my cheeks, I fixed my attention to the carefully tended garden: lots of flower pads composing a beautiful, colorful picture; I stood in front of one, inspecting the flowers closely, baffled by the choice.

"It seems you recognize this one."

Elena, standing a few meters away, her hands intertwined behind her back, looked at me straight in the eyes. Her expression softened, a kind smile appeared on her lips. I had not noticed her standing there. She, on the other hand, was looking at me exhaustively; her eyes, looking for answers, like she was expecting me to be there. Breaking eye contact, I pursed my lips, pushing my hands further into my pockets. Her steps slow and carefree, she stood next to me, looking tenderly at the flowers. Tucking a long strand behind her ears, she bend over them, sniffing, momentarily eyes closed. Pleased by the fragrance, she smiled again.

"Chrysanthemums are associated with mourning and sadness here, but in other countries they are considered messengers of joy and prosperity. In Asari's country, they represent longevity and rejuvenation and it's even the imperial family emblem," she explained."I love the antithesis of their symbolism. I believe it's quite interesting, how a simple flower has such a different meaning depending on where you live. Locals' think it's a weird choice, but you should have seen Asari's smile when he saw them. He often gazes at them; I bet they remind him of his home…Hmm…I see I finally caught your attention."

Her long, white fingers lightly touching each other in a lowered steeple position, her eyes sparkling, her red lips curled up a bit; she seemed to enjoy the conversation, though it was more of a monologue really, which was surprising. Was I staring too much? Then again she was too captivating not to stare at. Not budging at the lack of response, she stood up, beckoning me to follow her. At that point I had no reason to decline, thus I found myself into the greenhouse she was so eager to show me in order to leave the garden and avoid meeting him there.

Once there, lots and lots of different flowers, most of them I had never seen before, were springing from beautiful pots and flower beds synthesizing a gorgeous picture, like one you'd see in paintings and postcards. And among them, Helena, in her beautiful blue dress, hopping on a metal bench in the far back of her greenhouse. She was grinning proudly, just like a child, her eyes clearer than the summer sky, completing the picture.

"How do you like it?" she asked.  
"Well…it seems you put a lot of hard work into this."  
"I did," she furrowed her eyebrows. "But… you didn't really answer my question again."  
"I just did."

She sighed, looking a bit disappointed at my response. Now that was a reaction I was more familiar with, surprisingly it helped me relax a bit. I approached her hesitantly. If I had to be honest, I'd prefer not to stay alone with her for long. I could not understand her behavior, her motives were too unclear and I was feeling too tired to deal with her. She pursed her lips for a moment, her expression now more serious.

"You know, Spade was the one who made me get into this," she touched a nearby flower, offering a tender smile. "The first time he sent me a bouquet, he sent a note along with them. It was an arrangement of many different flowers. Every one of them represents my feelings for you, he wrote."  
"A bit cheesy."  
"Wasn't it?" she chuckled. "He keeps a cool attitude, but in reality he is a bit dramatic. However, it worked. It was infuriating, not knowing what each of them meant, so I ended up asking around. It took me a couple of days to find their meaning, different people gave me different answers and I even ended up buying a flower dictionary. He got me. I found that fact so interesting, I started obsessing over flowers and I ended up taking it up as a hobby. People looking for a way to communicate their feelings in an environment that certain behaviors were expected… don't you think that in a way it represents humanity's mischievous and playful nature? I find it a bit romantic."  
"What's so surreptitious and romantic about it if everyone knows or could know their meaning should they cared enough? Isn't it more of a public stunt nowadays?"  
"Good point." she nodded and cupped the flower in her hands, cutting it carefully. "So what you are saying is that it has lost its meaning?".  
"More or less," I shrugged.  
"Quite the cynical," she smiled and stood up. "I still believe that it has a lot of meaning... For people who simply love flowers and have fun with the information…and especially for those who, even if they personally find it a bit cheesy, they still cannot express themselves well with words. But they can express their feelings through them."

She opened her palm, presenting me the red flower she had just cut. I had seen it before but I could not recall its name. Mystified by her set smile, I instinctively took a step back, my whole body on high alert, but she closed the distance immediately. Ignoring my jittery moves, she placed the red flower carefully in my lapel and looked up to meet my eyes.

"Offering a red camellia to someone, for example, means you are a flame in my heart," she boldly said, her voice steady and serious and I could not stand the tension, nor her prying stare.

Sizing up the situation, I shook off the bewilderment her words caused me and grabbed her hand calmly, my lips formed a sardonic smile. Her hand being close to my chest made me feel uncomfortable and I didn't like people touching me, so I clumsily tried to take control of the situation in an unseemly manner. She blinked while I leaned towards her closing the distance even more, yet she remained calm, in an almost naive, childish way.

"Are you trying to flirt with me, my lady?"

Her eyes opened wide, she paused for a second trying to registered my words and the next moment her lips trembled, she turned her face away and covered up her mouth, but she failed to hold back a loud laugh. Stunned – and maybe a little bit offended – by her reaction, I relaxed my grip and she shook her released hand in the air gesturing me to excuse her like she had just heard the most hilarious joke in her life.

"There is no way I'd do that," she assured me, swiping her eyes with her thumb, looking amused.  
"Well, you made it quite clear already," my frowning face could not hide my displeasure, it was not the outcome I had imaged, not one I was used to.  
"I'm sorry…I was just trying to share knowledge," her tone a bit taunting. "I heard you treasure sharing and gathering information after all. Even the smallest details," smiling slyly, she put her hands behind her back, standing on her tip toes to reach my eye level. "Mr. Alfieri, to answer your question, I'm not interested in becoming your romantic partner, but a business partner, that I am willing to be. Will you consider it?"  
"I…"  
"Why do you look so surprised? You were not even serious when you asked me that," she laughed. "As for my proposal, I believe that it was already quite obvious that I was interested in a partnership. Though I'm aware that our ideals don't align completely just yet, I also believe in the power information nowadays... So I'd like you to think over my offer seriously. I don't need an immediate answer."

Not that I did not have my suspicions, but information gathering was not in my top guesses why the Vongola family would consider my family a good asset. It was not why we were mostly known for, not what my father had worked on to make a name. Still, the Vongola was not involved in the smuggling business, so approaching us for that seemed quite unluckily and it was the most troubling part. But it did make sense, why they had not approached my father directly. What was that woman thinking?

"Why would you like to partner with someone who doesn't share your ideas though?" my hands found their way to my pockets again. "And one who doesn't show you any trust to add to that?"  
"What can I say..." she stood on her heels again and smiled broadly. "I like your temperament."  
"So, you won't answer my question," I clicked my tongue, looking away.  
"That makes two of us," she simply said. "Oh. It's getting late. We have to join the rest for dinner!"

Leaving the conversation hanging, she walked towards the door but stopped before opening it. She looked back, smirking confidently.

"By the way, I don't think I'd ever try to be a flame in your heart, Mr. Alfieri, I don't seem to be your type anyway... But you could put that flower in a good use, I'd feel sorry for it if you wouldn't."

Without waiting for an answer, she led the way back to the house, paying no attention to my flabbergasted expression. What was the point of the whole conversation, I could not tell. Asking me directly for a partnership seemed the right and the most businesslike thing to do and yet she chose to speak evasively before leading the conversation right where she wanted. Partnering with the Vongola… Providing that I'd say yes, what would I gain?

"Information." I mumbled.

Vexed by the conversation, I followed behind her. For a moment, I had forgotten the reason I had visited, debating the pros and cons inside my head. Lost in thoughts I entered the living room, oblivious to the people gathered there and did not snap out of them until I heard a familiar voice calling my last name. Feeling my pulse rising, my gaze met his. G, looking surprised and slightly unsettled by my presence, an expression unlike the one she had a few minutes ago in the garden. He turned to Elena for answers and clicked his tongue as she guffawed at his expression.

"What is he doing here?" he rubbed his neck, averting his eyes.  
"I thought I should keep it as a surprise," Elena explained.  
"Not a very pleasant one, judging by the reaction," I offered a thin smile.

He turned furiously at my words but bit his tongue before answering, the moment he met my eyes. I titled my head, refusing to break contact. He did instead, his eyes traveled down my body and stopped where my wound was, his eyebrows furrowed. Conscious of his stare, I readjusted my jacket and flexed my body, fixing my posture only to receive a doubtful look. Sensing the tension, Giotto entered my line of vision calmly, extending his hand with the most welcoming smile he could pull off while Elena was looking at G. with a scolding expression.

"Excuse him. G. is not very fond of surprises," he accounted for his friend's behavior. "Please, have a seat."  
"Thank you."

Lucio sat next to me, thanking the host for having us there for dinner and kicked my leg to follow his lead. Kicking him back harder as a warning not to draw attention, my attention focused on Giotto's pleasantries about work and dinner in a desperate attempt to set the mood again. I tried to respond in a similar manner. There was no point pondering over his reaction; who would expect a warm welcome after what had happened that night. He did save me but he also put himself in danger. Maybe I should have taken the hint and not tried to contact him. Did I misconceive his silence on the matter? Maybe I'm thinking too much, I thought to myself.

Elena had prepared a feast, starting with olives, crisps and smaller snacks, moving to a well prepared dish of lasagna and then pork stew accompanied by a fresh salad, the amount and the quality of food would easily please even the most demanding guest. Lucio was gobbling his share, praising the host repetitively, Asari by contrast was eating silently, savoring every bite. The contradiction was almost comical. The food tasted good indeed and yet I only sampled every plate. Lorena's voice about wasting my food again echoed in my head. The wine though, that I did honor, maybe more than I should, refilling my glass more than twice. For someone who was avoiding drinking in front of others, I had overdid it that day.

At that point, I was not even part of the conversation. Focusing solely on my drink, I was sipping it, enjoying the deep flavor, paying no mind to Lucio's concerned looks. My body was feeling hot from the alcohol, in spite of that I reached for the wine bottle again, only for it to be removed off the table the second I was about to touch it. Surprised, I met the eyes of the man I was set to avoid during the whole meal. G placed the bottle next to him without filling his glass, his eyes challenging, like he was daring me to say something.

After staring at him for a moment, I resigned without a fight. Lucio would not speak, but no one could guarantee me his silence if I refused to comply. What was that cheeky smile for? I stood up, stating my annoyance by staring back at him. Puzzled by my reaction, he pulled the bottle even closer to him, ready for a fight to which I responded with a sneer. Turning gears, I plastered on a smile to answer Elena's questioningly eyes.

"Forgive me, I feel a bit tired. Would you mind if I withdraw to my room?"  
"Are you ok? Do you need help?" Asari looked concerned.  
"It seems my body weakened after my cold, maybe the wine got to me. I'll be fine after I rest for a bit," I tried to sound polite. "Elena, I'm sorry for not joining you for coffee, the food was delicious. Giotto, it was a pleasure."  
"The pleasure was all mine."  
"Please, don't mind us," Elena nodded.  
"Then, excuse me..." I gestured Lucio to stay back and headed towards the staircase, glaring at G. who had balled his fists on the table, glaring back.

Irritated, I entered the room, shutting the door behind me. My fingers immediately reached for my necktie, my pulse was not normal. My body was still feeling hot, that sweltering feeling would not subside. I removed my jacket in an attempt to cool down, throwing it on the bed. My inability to control myself around him was unsettling and had a jarring effect, I could not stand it any more. I rubbed my temples with my hand, walking up and down the room, trying to be calm. It did not help, as a matter of fact it made matters worse, my body felt hotter.

I had barely managed to stop myself from looking at him during our meal and everything blew up everything the moment I did. Disgusted by my own lack of composure and realizing that moving around did not help, I started unbuttoning my shirt. My fingers nervously dealing with each button, making the simple task look harder than it was, adding to my frustration. It was only when I met my own reflection in the mirror that I settled down. The moment my shirt slid down my shoulders, revealing the bandages covering my chest brought me back to reality. Frozen, I stared back at myself in the mirror.

Set rules. Set personality. Set mannerisms.

There were many things set for me. Everything honed to perfection to cover my imperfect self. Why was I feeling like this just because of someone I hardly knew. Pathetic. I could not pinpoint the source of my frustration; was it because I was denying it or because I was refusing to acknowledge those feelings, it was all the same. Even without strings, the script was engraved in me; I could not accept anything which could make me deviate from it, I should not accept it, how could I throw away years of training like that?

Preoccupied with my thoughts, I did not hear the door opening at first. It was only when the person finally entered and was reflected into the mirror when I realized that I had let my guard down. Reacting fast, I stepped away from the mirror and pulled my shirt up, buttoning it quickly, keeping my composure. I had rehearsed situations like that one too many times in my head. Acting them out was the thing I was doing best after all. The girl, abashed, stood speechless, holding a towel in her hands, clearly not expecting my presence there, her cheeks red, she avoided my eyes.

"I'm sorry sir, I..." she stuttered. "I was ordered to bring you towels, I was not expecting you to be here."  
"It's not your fault," I buttoned up my shirt walking towards her with a smile. "I was feeling a little tired, one can not show too much weakness, you see."  
"Oh..."

Her eyes fell down my shoulders; she had caught a glimpse of the bandages that was for sure. Cornering her between the wall and me, I put up my hand, cutting her exit. Judging from her flustered reaction and the rose shade that colored her cheeks she had not figured out anything but letting her talk about the bandages could create rumors, something I'd like to avoid, especially right after we tried to cover the truth.

"But then again, sharing a secret with someone does not sound that bad."

Using a smoldering look, I leaned closer. She shuddered the moment I cupped her chin. Her lips wet, she avoided my eyes but did not try to run away. That was more of the reaction I was expecting, things were moving my way. It was good that she was not looking at me, my eyes empty, it was easy to manipulate an innocent person like that and I was not even feeling sorry for it. She had almost surrendered herself when she suddenly jumped on her spot and pushed me away.

"I'm sorry again, sir. Here, please take your towel," she handed it before running out.  
"Hold on, I-"

Baffled by her action, I was unable to hold her back. As I was about to run after her, I was stopped by the source of her panic. The red haired man entered assertively, making me take a few steps back and closed the door behind him in a stew, his cheeks red, eyes full of disappointment.

My heart skipped a beat.

Trying not to break eye contact, I grabbed the table by the window, trying to halt his trajectory. He stopped inches away, balling his fists.

"Is that how you rest? By hitting on staff?"  
"Well, maybe I could teach your a thing or two? You didn't seem to have the same luck earlier in the garden."  
"What?" he growled, his eyes rolled.

So I went there after all. Was it just to cover my nervousness and change the subject or because I could not get the scene out of my head? My hand slipped while trying to stand firmer, causing me to lose my balance, my senses a bit dull from the alcohol. His hand grabbing my shoulder, he pulled me back on my feet, preventing my fall; how uncool of me. His hard expression softened, looking genuinely worried.

"Are you ok?" Even his voice was a fraction softer...not that it lasted. "That's what happens when you drink without eating anything. Do you realize that you are still recovering?"  
"I'm fine, ok? Completely fine! Look!" I stretched my body. "Full of health."  
"Full of health my ass..." he rubbed his forehead. "Why are you even here, Alfieri? Go home and rest."  
"Maybe I should..." I paused for a moment. "I had to thank you first, so maybe I should right after that."  
"Thank me?"  
"Well, I owe you for saving my life and all," I mumbled.

He blinked.

"For saving your life?"

I nodded; it was only natural, after all. "Well, I have to repay my debt. So ask me anything."

"Repay… Pff..." he held back his laugh.  
"What's so funny, damn it?" angered by his reaction, I grabbed his collar.  
"I'm sorry, but..."  
"I'm being serious here."  
"Are you?" his laughter stopped abruptly.  
"Eh?"  
"You are skinnier than last time I saw you. You even drunk carelessly today. Are you even glad you are alive?"

Was I?

His piercing eyes made me look away. I had hesitated too much to answer to sound convincing. Maybe I wasn't; nevertheless I could at least recognize his effort to save me and the fact that he had risked his own life to do that. Feeling indebted to someone was not my style anyway. He grabbed my wrists, removing my hands from his collar, his downcast eyes made my breathing faster. There was no right answer, I knew that. The lack of response made the atmosphere even more awkward than it already was.

"Come with me," he finally said.  
"Excuse me?"  
"Come with me," his tone more demanding now as he was trying to drag me away.  
"Where to? Hold on, my jacket..."

He dragged me along as he returned for the jacket and then out of the guest room, eliminating my excuse to get away from his grab. Walking down the stairs carefully not to be noticed by anyone, he led me outside the house. Confused by his behavior, I did not resist. Following silently, my eyes were stuck on the long strands of his red hair, messily touching his shoulders, a few of them tucked under his collar. He would not look behind, but he made sure nobody had seen us sneaking out, probably aware of Lucio's presence and the trouble he could cause or wanting to avoid giving explanations entirely.

A small, beaten up carriage was waiting at the back of the house. It was my second time sneaking out of a house that day, the thought that maybe I was too old for doing this kind of things crossed my mind for a second, but I dismissed the thought right away. It was I who had followed him without complaining in the end, if I had raised my voice even once, I'm sure someone would have noticed. He opened the door to the back, gesturing me to enter inside where a huge barrel and random full sacks were laying, checking around that nobody was watching us. Finally regretting my lack of resistance, I took a step back ready to walk away. Sensing my intention, he threw his head back with a cocky smile.

"You said you owed me one, but you'd back out of this so easily?"  
"You had to play this card now..." I pushed him aside annoyed by his snarky tone and entered inside.  
"Well, you won't be seen by anyone in there until we reach our destination."  
"Does it really matter?" I sat down, crossing my arms.  
"I don't know, why don't you ask your guardian?" he raised an eyebrow.  
"My guardian?"  
"Well, it doesn't matter," he closed the door, pouting, avoiding to give me an answer.  
"Hey!"

Though I had feigned surprise, it was obvious that he was referring to Vito. So did Vito look like my guardian to him? What had transpired that day between him and Vito, I didn't know and did not press to find out. After scolding him, I hesitated to bring it up again and Lucio was refusing to fill me in on the details, saying that I should focus on my recovery instead. G. jumped on the driver's seat. With my back rested on the wooden wall of the carriage, I closed my eyes, listening his every move as he was making himself comfortable on his seat while checking the bridge.

The rhythmical galloping of the horse soon filled the unbearable silence. Through the small window above me, a weak ray of light was licking a rotten part of the floor. Just how old was that carriage? My eyes, adjusting to the dark, scanned my surroundings. I didn't mind the dark but the silence between us was nerve racking; however, not knowing what should be an appropriate topic for conversation, I remained silent. We'd probably end up bickering anyway, I thought to myself. But, dragging me outside all of sudden, then stuffing me in there... if he had not had saved me before, it'd be utterly suspicious.

Turning to my knees, I stood up as carefully as I could, peeking outside. The repetitive sound of his lighter flickering as he was impatiently trying to light his cigarette could only indicate his awkwardness. Then again, I could not see his face to say that for certain, maybe I was simply catering to myself with my thoughts. After sucking deeply, he blew out the smoke with a small sigh. His fingers run through the back of his hair, revealing just a bit of his neck, his skin paler than that of his hand, my eyes widen watching his every more. The carriage rocked as it hit a drift in the path, throwing off my balance. Grabbing the barrel as a reflex, I tripped, barely managing not to fall down and I let out a muffled groan.

"What the hell?" G. startled by the noise looked back. "Why did you stand up? Are you crazy?"  
"Well, I am in a carriage among potatoes, carrots and whatever all these are, what am I supposed to do?"  
"What are you, a kid? Just stay seated."  
"Where are we going anyway?"  
"To get you something to eat."  
"Huh? Seriously, where are going?" irritated, I kicked the carriage. "Get me out."  
"Hey! Just be patient, ok? You promised you'd do this."  
"I don't recall promising such a thing." `  
"Can you stop being stubborn? We'll reach our destination in a while. Trust me, ok?" he snapped. "I can't stand you, really."  
"Then why don't you stop the carriage? I'll get off."  
"Just how immature can you get? Can't you shut up and stay silent for a while?"  
"Whatever."

My back rested on the wall with a thud. Crossing my arms, I slid down winching, trying to locate the source of my annoyance. Used to the dark, it was not what really bothered me. In reality I knew, he might have claimed that it was due to Vito's action, but having to hide into the back of the carriage like it was some kind of embarrassment to be seen together was wearing on me. I could not help but wonder if it was really for my shake. With thoughts like these, we stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.

The carriage did not stop before we entered the city, I could tell by the different sound of the horseshoes on the paved surface and the constant murmur. The sun had fallen already and it became darker inside, making me grow impatient. When the carriage finally stopped I could listen people laughing merrily, two men approached the carriage immediately, greeting G. with excitement. He returned their greeting before hopping off the carriage asking if they were finished with the preparations. I stood up, looking outside of the small window curiously, but my vision was limited.

The doors finally slid open and two unfamiliar faces peeked inside. One of them was a middle aged man with gray hair and dark brown eyes; he was smiling under his thick mustache. The other one was a bit younger with short brown hair and green eyes, he put his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side. When I took a step back instinctively and glared at them, the older one burst out laughing and opened the door wider.

"Now, your friend looks like a cautious fellow," he hopped on the carriage with the swiftness of a young boy. "My name is Angelo," he extended his hand.  
"Not very friendly, are you?" the other one commented on my hesitation. "Hey, G.! Your friend is a bit shy, won't you come over to introduce him to us?"  
"Oh, come on," G. finally appeared by the second man and placed a hand on his shoulder, checking out my reaction and threw his his other hand in the air. "Since when you are a shy one?"  
"He looks confused. Come on kid, help us unload the carriage."  
"He won't," G. climbed on the carriage. "He just recovered from an illness, let him take it easy, Angelo. He is here for a breather."  
"Then you came to the right place, kid. Delicious food, great music and beautiful women can do wonders for a man's health."  
"Aren't you too old for women though, Angelo?" the other one teased.  
"What the hell are you saying," Angelo looked offended and picked up the barrel like it was the easiest thing to do. "I'm already married to the most beautiful one, so I never took a break!"  
"Oh, what a strong and loving husband!" the other one whistled. "Let me help you with that!" he extended his hand to support the barrel as they were unloading it. "I'm Marco, by the way," he popped his face over the barrel and raised his voice. "Nice to meet you!"  
"I'm Andrea..."  
"Hey, Alfieri, move it, you are in the way."

Still puzzled by the situation I found my self in, I jumped out of the carriage and into the small plaza were men and women were busy preparing a small-scale fiesta. The plaza was surrounded by old, stone houses. Small, steep stairs led to the second floors with the large windows, from where women were puttering the preparations while nonchalantly spreading their laundry. Beautiful plants sprouting from the windowsills or decorating the stairs; the whole place was fragrant with flowers. I had not been to that part of the town before. An old, poor neighborhood at the outskirts of our town, illuminated by dim city lights. Homes stuck so close, it felt like they were glued together, people laughing and talking loudly, an atmosphere lighter and more relaxed from the one I was used to.

Everyone seemed busy and extremely comfortable with each other. Feeling out of place, I tried to stay out of their way. Unsure of what that man was thinking when he decided to bring me here, my eyes darted at him. He was arguing in front of a huge cauldron with another man, both of them gesturing relentlessly. The other man finally raised his hands in defeat and I stayed there, silently watching G giving out directions to him when Angelo appeared again, placing his hands around their arms and offering each one a glass full of wine.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Marco asked carrying a basket full of tomatoes. "Andrea, was it?"  
"I'm not sure about what I'm supposed to do," I let an exasperated sigh.  
"Not sure…? Have fun of course," he laughed.  
"Fun..." I grimaced, that's not how you repay a debt.  
"Don't be shy about it. Everyone loves G. around here, they'll welcome you with open arms if they find out you are his friend."  
"More of an acquaintance really..."

My words surprised him.

"Well, try to enjoy yourself a bit," he patted my back hard in a friendly manner. "Hey, G. I brought the tomatoes!"  
"About time!" his eyes finally met mine. "Hey, Alfieri, come and make yourself useful!"  
"Eh?"  
"You can at least do that, right?" he called.

I approached reluctantly. Without further explanation, he handed me a bunch of potatoes and a knife. I looked up at him at a complete loss for words be he simply urged me to use them. Was that how I was supposed to repay him? Ridiculous. I looked at the potato in my hand furrowing my eyebrows and looked at the men beside me who were busy cutting onions and other vegetables skillfully, while engaging in a joyful conversation and emphasizing their words with exaggerated gestures from time to time. I should be able to do as much...or at least I tried to, in a very clumsy, slow and unskillful way.

"Man, you must be really pampered," Marco commented with a judging look, his face right next to mine. "Look how much you wasted on the skin. First time peeling a potato?"

I slammed the knife on the counter trying to hide my embarrassment. Well, I was not supposed to be there anyway, so there was no need to continue that farce, was there?

"Don't pick on him, Marco," Angelo cut him off just before I snap. "Though glaring at it like you do won't make it peel its skin on its own, boy."  
"Say, Andrea, are you working with G.?" the other one changed the subject without care. "You must be one of those well-read friends of his, right? And you do seem the type women love. Try not to break way too many hearts tonight," Marco laughed at his own words.  
"What if he steals your daughter, Marco?" Angelo supported his elbow on Marco's shoulder with a slight smirk.  
"My daughter is way too young for this!" he waved the knife threateningly. "So stay away from her."  
"I don't even know who your daughter is though, so I can't promise anything."  
"True that!" he laughed even louder, like he had just realized that. "Oh and stay away from G.'s woman too."  
"G.'s woman?" I blinked.  
"Marco, she is not his woman, stop spreading rumors," Angelo rubbed his mustache in disapproval.  
"Still, you don't touch the woman your friend has his eyes on!" Marco insisted.  
"The woman he has his eyes on...Oh, the brunette with the blue eyes..." I picked up the knife again, trying to look busy with my task.  
"See?" Marco pointed at me with his knife. "It's obvious the boy has the hots for her even to mere acquaintances. Well, his eyes are not enough; if he doesn't place his hands on her too, she is going to get snatched by another man sooner or later."  
"Don't mind him, he is the biggest gossiper around here," Angelo smacked the back of Marco's head with a scolding look. "No one knows more than him when it comes to other people's love stories."  
"I like to call it social commentary!" Marco puffed his chest proudly. "Oh! Speak of the devil! This is the one, our lovely Anna!" he nodded towards her with a playful smirk.  
"Oh, there he goes… She is waving at you, show a bit more confidence, young lad," Angelo shook his head in disappointment looking at G. who waved back awkwardly.  
"He is hopeless," Marco sighed. "Hey, are you ok?"  
"Mm? I'm fine..."

My eyes followed Marco's who was looking at my hands with his eyes rolled. Red drips of blood dirtied the unpeeled potato in my hand. Angelo took out his handkerchief quickly, handing it to me while I was still in a daze. It took me a moment to realize his gesture and I took it, wrapping it around my finger sloppily to stop the blood. I remained calm, but somehow I could not look at them in the eye.

"Don't mind me, it's nothing."  
"Man, you are really bad at this," Marco took the knife away from my hands. "Don't loose your finger over a damn potato."  
"Now you are exaggerating," Angelo scolded him. "it's just a small cut. And aren't you the one who disturbed his focus with your gossip?"  
"How is this my fault now?"  
"Let this one handle the rest, Andrea," Angelo pulled me away from the counter and showed me to a seat nearby, gesturing someone to bring us wine. "Why don't you rest here and enjoy yourself."  
"Admit it," I smiled slyly. "You just don't want me to waste more of those potatoes, do you?"  
"Well, you got me," he let out a loud laugh and handed me a glass of wine. "The night has just started!"  
"Sorry about this one, I should return it clean but..."  
"Don't say sorry for something like that. Give that back here, I can clean an old rug like this one without problem," he took his handkerchief back.

Hospitable people, full of energy, the smell of food tickling your nose and music filling the doorsteps and echoing in the neighborhood. That night the stars shone brightly, as bright as the fires smoldering in the middle of the plaza. Men and women drinking wine, while hot pipping plates of food were passed around. The wine tasted bitter in my mouth though, my eyes refused to look towards the counter, denying the feeling that was eating me from inside.

"What's with me?" I murmured, watching my reflection in the red liquid.  
"Yeah, honestly what's with you?" G's voice startled me and he snatched the glass from my hand before I could react.  
"I was drinking that!"  
"Eat!"

His voice demanding, he replaced the glass with a plate full of pasta. Taking a seat beside me, he took a bite out of his own plate, looking satisfied with the taste of his food. Seeing that I was still looking at the food dubiously, he grunted and urged me to eat by stinging pasta and eggplant with my fork, handing it to me. There was no way I was getting out of there without tasting it, I could see it in his eyes. In the end, he was serious when he said that he was getting me something to eat, who would have thought?

"Oh..." my eyes widen, honestly I was not expecting such a rich flavor.  
"Is it not to your liking?"  
"No… it actually tastes good."  
"Right?" he smiled proudly watching me eat my second bite. "The secret ingredient is love!"  
"I changed my mind," I said with a deadpan voice and let down my fork before I eat the next. "It tastes gross after all. The secret ingredient ruined it."  
"What's with that face you just made? Don't call it gross," he laughed. "Lots of people worked for this."  
"Weren't you the one who cooked it though?"  
"Well, it's my specialty after all… But there were people cutting the vegetables and putting on the fire, so it's more of a team effort," he turned his focus on his plate with a satisfied smile.  
"Do you cook often?"  
"I used to cook a lot in the past, not that much nowadays. But I enjoy it when I have the chance."  
"Did you use to live around here?"  
"You can tell?"  
"Well, you are too comfortable around these people, unlike how you were in the last gathering. They seem to know you well too."  
"You are observant."  
"Anyone could tell as much, it's not like you are hiding it. You did not fit in there, you seem to fit in with these people with no effort on the other hand."  
"Was that an insult just now?" he pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow.  
"It wasn't," I looked at him with a serious expression on my face. "They are good people. "  
"I see," he looked away bashfully and took another bite. "Well, I'm glad you like them, since you don't seem to like many people generally."

"Maybe I could use them in the future..."  
"Don't even think about it!" he looked furious. "They are honest people."  
"Sorry I'm not an honest one."  
"No... I didn't mean it like that!"  
"Relax," I chuckled at his nervous expression. "I meant it as a joke. And I'm not an honest citizen anyway, people like these would not fit in my line of business."  
"I don't know..." he paused for a moment. "Poverty and hunger drive people to actions they'd never imagine themselves doing sometimes."

Munching my meal slowly, I watched the sudden melancholy on his face quizzically. Until then, I had never though I'd see him making a face like that.

"Talking from experience?"  
"Eh?" he snapped out of it. "Asking something like that… Alfieri, aren't you a bit tactless?"  
"Well, I don't really think I really need an answer to that. Try to seem a bit happier though, you don't want to worry them, do you?"  
"You don't seem to be the type who worries about how others feel."  
"I don't. But I'm not the one they care about, not the one who looks like he is regretting his life choices right now."  
"You surely don't, look at you gulping down your food."

I looked at my almost empty plate in surprise. _Weird_, I though, it's not like I was feeling hungry until then, but I could not stop eating it. I let down my fork, being at my wit's end. Honestly I did not want to admit that I liked it as much, but I could not deny it after eating the whole thing. He cracked up at my expression. Unlike the stern face he was usually wearing, the boyish smile that appeared on his face made him look younger. Was it because he was in a familiar place? He seemed to loosen up a bit.

"I'm not regretting them... And you don't have to look so shocked, food does taste better when you are sharing with other people," he smiled softly and took a sip from the wine I was drinking from earlier. "I'm glad you liked it."  
"I…" I found myself drowning into that smile, but flustered by his move I stood up abruptly. He blinked and I rushed to cover my extreme reaction. "Well, it's passable. Maybe I'll go for a second helping since you are so glad I ate it. Feel honored that I actually praised your cooking, G."  
"I am," he smiled genuinely. "You have to eat well if you want to recover completely."

Nodding, I walked away briskly until I reached the serving area. Despite my calm exterior, my heartbeat would not calm down. Freaking out by the fact that he had just drunk from the same glass so casually should not have freaked me out as much. In desperate need to recollect myself, I used the most believable yet lubberly excuse I could find. Not very proud of myself, I stood in line quietly, glancing back from time to time. It seemed that Angelo and Marco, along with a little girl, had joined G. moments after I had left. When I returned with my plate refilled, Angelo greeted me first.

"I told you the food here is delicious," he grinned. "Well, G's pasta di norma is heavenly, I can't blame you for wanting more."  
"You should have tried the potato salad too, you put your sweat and blood in it," Marco teased.  
"You won't let it go, will you?" I hunged my head to the side, letting my plate on the table.  
"I won't," he smirked.

My respond was cut short when I felt someone tugging my trouser. I looked down to see a girl, around thirteen to fourteen years old, a bit short, with big green eyes and long brown hair tied in a ponytail looking up dreamily. She reminded me of Emma, dressed in her yellow dress, looking full of energy. I smiled at her as a reflex and she jolted looking back at Marco who was wolfing down his food, looking for support, and then back at me. Feeling encouraged by my plastered smile, her shoulders relaxed a bit. She smiled back a bright smile, attaching herself to me more.

"I'm Sienna," she introduced herself. "Will you dance with me?"  
"Sienna," Angelo turned his attention to us laughing. "You are usually all over G., what happened?"  
"But this one looks cooler," he put out her lower lip and looked down stubbornly like she was asking for a new toy.  
"Did you hear that G.?" Angelo let down his drink and hold his stomach, trying to stop his laughter. "You just got dumped."  
"I do feel a bit hurt," G. smiled.  
"Don't be, it's just how life is," she said.  
"That's deep," G. nodded solemnly.  
"It's how you present yourself, the girl has a good taste," I ruffled her hair.  
"I'm not a girl, I'm a young lady now, mun said so," she stepped back fixing her hair and then her dress.  
"And who can question her? I'm sorry young lady, that was rude of me."  
"You are forgiven!"  
"But I'm afraid I'm not a very good dancer."  
"Oh..." she looked disappointed.  
"Don't worry Sienna, dad can dance with you," Marco volunteered.  
"But dad..." she hid herself behind my leg and averted her eyes, looking a bit repulsed by the idea. "...You are... _old_."  
"What?!"

At that point, Angelo could barely breath from laughing. Marco's shocked face was priceless, he fell back to his chair defeated, but the little girl didn't seem to pay him any mind. It was kind of pitiful and I had to try hard to hold back my laugh too, since Marco seemed already annoyed by Angelo who had covered his mouth and hid his face on the table, trying to calm himself down. As Marco proceeded to complain about how his little daughter seemed to avoid him lately and how fast kids tend to grow up, I glanced at G. He was silent for a while, barely joing the conversation. His eyes glued to the brunette called Anna, he was looking at her longingly while rolling his drink around his glass. He gave the impression that he was more comfortable with women back in Giotto's gathering, maybe because he didn't care enough.

My eyes traveled to the girl, who was peeking at him from time to time. She was obviously aware of his feelings, but would not make a move. Her actions made me recall the conversation I had with Elena earlier that day. Of course she wouldn't, she wasn't like the girls I used to hang out with, she had a proper image to uphold, unable to be too honest or too open, but once again, she didn't seem to mind the attention. So what was holding him back? Sienna was busy trying to escape her dad's hug who was showering her with lovable kisses on her forehead; what a doting parent. The scene looked so foreign. Angelo was happily teasing both of them, so they didn't seem to notice how detached he was from the conversation.

After watching him for a couple of minutes, I could not stand it anymore. I cupped my chin, a devious smile appeared on my lips and I approached him without making a sound. He was too absorbed to notice as I leaned down, my lips next to his ear, my cheek brushed slightly against his hair.

"Would you like to dance with me all night?"

My voice lowered in a suggestive whisper, he flinched in his spot, his fingers wrapped steadily around his glass, eyes widened, I could tell his whole body tensed under his clothes, the tips of his ears had turned red. Pleased with myself, I put my hand on his shoulder, fingers running slowly against he soft fabric and resting on it; it was then that he turned to look at me, confused and flushed; displaying an even more amusing reaction than the one I was expecting. Almost frozen in place, he did not even move when I leaned in more, a derive, triumphed smile on my lips.

"See, it's not that hard. Why don't you ask her out?"  
"Wh-What the hell were you thinking?" he finally pushed me away with his elbow, looking away. "You are weird..."  
"You are the one who got excited by another man's voice though," I laughed, sitting beside him.

He did not respond right away; it seemed like he was holding back his words.

"It's because of how cringe worthy that line was. I could never say embarrassing lines like that one."  
"Oh, come on, I bet you rehearsed similar lines in your head many times," I gestured towards her casually. "Just ask her if she'd like to dance with you, it's not like you'll ask her out. Worst thing that can happen is she'll deny politely. Best thing, you two spend the night together."  
"Keep your voice down now, will you?"  
"Or would you rather dance with me, you didn't seem to mind. Oh, the curse of being so seductive..."  
"Are you listening to yourself?"  
"A modern Adonis!" I continued raising up a fist in a theatrical way.  
"You sure love your self," he shrugged, looking down while smiling.  
"...Yeah," my own smile faded for a moment. "I sure do."  
"Hm?"  
"I know," I stood up. "Should I go ask her instead? I'm sure she won't resist me."  
"You wouldn't," he pulled me back on my seat. "You are not even serious about her."  
"The score is 2-0, maybe I'll turn it into 3-0 with this one."  
"It's not a competi- Did you just count Sienna?"  
"A win is still a win. The girl displayed her good taste."  
"What the hell? And Anna is not that kind of girl, so..."  
"Not that kind of girl… I see..." I looked at her. "Disillusioning yourself, aren't you? Poor her."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Go to her, then."

He looked hesitant, but he jumped on his feet when he noticed I was about to stand up again. His face reddish, he scratched his nose shyly and tidied up his clothes taking a big breath.

"Ok... Here I go."  
"Good luck," I waved. "I can give you a shoulder to cry on if she'll reject you."  
"Like I'd ever do that," he barked.

He just needed a small push after all. Almost disappointed by how easy that was, I gestured Angelo to fill me a glass of wine, which he gladly did. Gulping down my drink, I was almost amused by his self-cautiousness. His steps wavering at first, grew more and more determined as he was closing near her. Trying to find the resolve, the fingers of his right hand rubbed his left shoulder nervously, he looked away as he tapped her back softly to hide his embarrassment. I scoffed at his hesitation and watched them move towards the center of the plaza a couple of minutes later, a bright smile underlining his excitement. Of course she happily accepted, her hand squeezed his arm tenderly after he asked her and she rushed to grab a tambourine. Young men and women flocked towards the center alongside them as an upbeat, light song started playing. Even I could recognize that one.

"It's Tarantella!" Sienna jumped excited right in front of me. "Andrea, dance with me."  
"Well, I'm familiar with the dance but I don't know the steps."  
"It's ok," she grinned. "Clap for me instead, I show you how well I can dance."  
"Alright then," I stood up after letting down my glass. "Since you insist that much, maybe I could give this a try. Could we stay here though? I'm a bit tired and I'd be embarrassed if I mess up the steps in front of everyone."  
"That's fine by me!"

Watching her dancing excitedly, I clapped my hands accompanying her enthusiasm. Light, quick steps, she was a good dancer for her age, she was obviously looking forward to this. Yet my eyes strayed away soon after, to where young men and women were dancing flirtatiously, skirts flapping in the air, men puffing their chests; it was a courtship dance after all, that was only normal. My hands clapping rhythmically, with almost mechanical moves, I followed his figure again. Avoiding to put a label to the sea of emotion inside me, sadly, I could easily recognize that one, I was too familiar with it to deny it anymore, it had visited me a lot that day: envy.

"Andrea, you sure suck at this," Sienna giggled.  
"Like father like daughter I guess… Praise my effort at least, I think I'm losing motivation."  
"G. is a better dancer."  
"Still, didn't you say I was the cooler one?"  
"G. is cooler when he dances though," she looked skeptical.  
"How frank!"  
"Oh, G. is looking at us!" she waved her tambourine.

Surprised, I looked up, only to meet his eyes who were looking at us curiously while he was dancing. I frowned. What kind of an idiot looks away from his woman after asking her to dance? I took a step forward and clapped my hands vigorously, nodding towards the girl as a sign that he should focus at her again, messing up Sienna's dance in the process, who stepped on my feet and looked up apologetically. Trying to keep on a smile, as not to upset her, I caught him covering his mouth with his fist to cover a laugh and then grinned at us, entertained by the scene he had just witnessed. My clapping became slugger, stunned by the unexpected smile my whole body felt numb once again. That turned Anna's attention toward us. She blinked, looking puzzled for a moment, it seemed she was trying to recall where she had seen my face, but offered us a kind smile anyway. His attention turned back to her the moment she asked him something.

"Idiot..." I muttered looking away from the scene. "Don't smile like that at me."

_It's fine. I did the right thing. I should bury that hateful emotion inside me. It's not the same; you won't smile like you smile at her, I thought. It should not bother me, it was not normal. But it does. So I'll pretend that I enjoy myself like I always do. With my fake smile and my empty words, like the scoundrel I am, just a hideous puppet asking for attention, and I will extinguish it, no problem. I read once, that if you lie enough, that lie will turn into your truth with time. So if I lie and lie and lie to you over and over, will I reach a happy ending or it will ultimately destroy me?_


End file.
